The Sixth Quarter Quell, Tremble
by HoppsHungerfan
Summary: The year of the Sixth Quarter Quell looks to be one of the best hunger games yet, a remotely interesting twist among a happier population, but what will come of the new addition of District 13? (closed SYOT, rated T for gory scenes)
1. Prologue, Proceedings

_Aldric Lesaunts, 46 years old, Rebel Leader_

For the first time, they take off the burlap sack that covers my face, and I gasp in the musky air that comes about as a result of being treated like cargo. There isn't much to the room I'm thrown in. To an extent, I could call it home, considering that there isn't much to describe really, besides the slit of light that comes from a slit in the hole. It's barely a foot wide and half a foot tall, but the sunlight casts an awkward shadow into the room when it skates across my hand.

It's the only feature of note really. I have a toilet, standard issue, but no cover. Luckily it flushes, judging from the noises I've heard before the sack was pulled off. There are no mirrors, I guess I can't judge how terribly banged up I must look right now, but I can feel that my nose is something if not entirely messed up. I guess that's how they treat prisoners.

The only other place to have a seat beside the toilet in the room is a bed, held up by chains, and apparently is very rudimentary. I can tell at first sight that it's made of a very fragile metal. The name escapes me for now, but back home, we would use it for simple tasks. Yes, it's fragile and very very cheap. That's all I can say about it. The one aspect of comfort that I can see in this cell is a pillow, nestled in a section of the bed that is carved out for that single purpose-a pillow.

Seeing no other option I sit on the bed and try my damnedest to fall asleep. As I cradle my nose the smooth metallic ceiling above me begins to swirl into patterns. When one of them looks too much like a claw I scream and almost hit my head on the hard metal that is the rest of my bed. I can only laugh at my stupidity as I slowly lull myself to sleep.

 _Wysperia Clearance, 31 years old, Head Warden_

The monitors behind are showing our prisoner, Aldric, as he sleeps aimlessly in bed. After supervision from my superior I suppose we are to release him, but for now, I cannot afford to spend all this time on our prisoner. "Wysperia!"

I turn, finding my assistant guardsman, holding his baton behind his back. "Corporal Admirus," I salute.

He returns my salute before walking up to me. "President Sleet wants to see you," he whispers in my ear. Judging from the look on his face, it's a critical matter, I'd be a fool not to report promptly.

"Prepare a security car for me then," I tell Admirus. He nods politely and moves to his squadron of peacekeepers, barking orders as a strong man usually does to his inferiors. I take a brief look at the supply of contraband Aldric was holding and raise my eyebrows at the odd list that he was found with. With a spare sheet of paper and a pen, I begin to take notes next to the awkwardly formed list

Nuclear codes: An extensive list that allows the prompt and immediate launching of all missiles. Further instructions on aiming the missiles are visible to the left, adjacent to said codes

Map of Panem: Self-explanatory, but more detailed than even the school principals are allowed to have

Flash Drive: To be scrutinized, appears to be 50 TB,

Glasses: Perscription, showing that the resident is a much richer person than the average

Overall, it's a small list, but the most dangerous item, the Nuclear Codes, is deadly when in the wrong hands, and the fact that we just caught a rebellion's leader-

"Wysperia!" the same voice shouts.

"I trust that my car is ready?" I ask.

"Why yes, it is," Admirus says gruffly. "Nothing would ever get past you, head warden."

"I don't intend to." With his hand beckoning into the sunlight of the mid-morning, I shove the evidence into a cloth bag and sling it over my shoulder.

 _Corrina Sleet, 68 years old, President_

"Madame President, your appointment is arriving," my secretary tells me.

"Call the driver and let her in," I say. I can hear her sounds of affirmation before the call hangs up. I look over from my office to see the armored van, the one assigned to the prison keepers and shipped directly from District 6. I fold up the map of the arena for the quarter quell and stow it in the shelf behind me. I tidy up to the best of my ability but I am not the tidiest of a people so I'm shoving away a book once the light hazel doors open.

"Madame Sleet," the prison warden says respectfully.

"Do come in," I invite. "Pardon the mess, I'm not the tidiest of a person, but I hope the cleanliness of the room is appropriate for a warden-like you.

She takes a seat quietly and stares at the window behind me. Her hands lay folded in her lap as I stow away the last of my books. "What is it you wanted me here for?" she asks.

I put on a customary smile as I pull up one of my files that I have inconveniently stored away for a brief moment. "I have been told that the mission was a success and that you have Aldric in custody." Once I see her nod in approval I begin to continue. "I was also told a while ago that Mr. Lesaunts contained a particularly controversial load with him. Please tell me what is inside that bag, of which I presume you have the contraband within."

She nods, trembling slightly. Being in the most powerful position of all of Panem does have its perks and I'd say that seeing the different reactions from my citizens is one of my favorite aspects. When all the contents of her cloth bag are laid out she begins to tell me her notes. "Nuclear codes, it's an extensive list that shows the location of all 100 currently disabled Capitol Nukes. There are also 150 disabled District 13 Nuclear bombs with a further 60 sites reserved for 2 bombs each. Then there's a flash drive. I would not advise putting it into your computer, at least until the analysts make it here. His glasses indicate a richer background, but I'd say the most noteworthy of his materials would be his map of Panem."

I clear my desk of the other supplies and unfold the map. It's entirely well done but looks to be terribly aged. The Capitol and all 13 Districts are clearly marked on the map. There is a key on the map that indicates the sites of various housing zones, mayoral residences, and various zones that show the main paths of the District. Alongside the ones that you'd typically find on a map, there is also a code that designates all the weapon silos. "Thank you Ms. Clearance, I'll accompany you back to the prison. I have some words that need to be exchanged with our prisoner."

"I hope I was of service," she says politely.

"I just need you to prepare the execution room, I'm going to be testing out new public executions, and I want our prisoner to be the first to test it out."

 _Aldric Lesaunts, 46 years old, Rebel Leader_

When I wake up from my deep slumber I find myself tied to a chair and gagged. A pair of dainty hands pulls down my gag as I finally look at my surroundings. It's a dilapidated conference room, probably still in the prison, but I can't find anything else. There are several desks and a monitor, things I'd expect for a conference room.

As soon as I look directly in front of me, I find myself staring at Madame President herself, Corrina Sleet. Absolutely resolute I make a gesture that shows I'm shutting up, but she cackles. "I know who you are, and as of now, whatever we may say in conversation will not be overheard. I made sure of it."

Slowly I relax, but still, make a gesture that I'll be shutting up. "I didn't expect much from you anyways. I'm sure that the two of us are on the same note, and that no much more needs to be said. But it's a damn terrible shame that you won't be making it back to District 13."

I raise an eyebrow in confusion, entirely resolute in not talking, and once again she laughs. "You were of great use to us. I can't believe that you of all people got captured, you were one of our best agents. But I suppose all good things must come to an end. And with every end, starts a new beginning. I'm sure that it will all go to plan."

My eyes widen as an iron maiden like device comes out of the ground and surrounds me. It's a very hollow case, to my surprise, but the heat already is sweltering. I begin to scream, and the sounds of machinery mean that this is my execution. I'm vaguely aware of lights turning on, machinery being put into place, and suddenly I'm catapulted into the sky with my coffin. I live through the heat but the fall is enough to kill me.

 _Jacob Calirosso, 34 years old, Head Gamemaker_

"M-M-Madame President…" I stutter, following after her. She turns with a momentary caution but for the most part, keeps moving at a quick pace away from the execution room. She's let all of the game's staff watch our prisoner's execution. Judging by the velocity I was sure that he would have been launched close enough to District 13 to cause some damage, but seeing him fall backward made all of us recoil.

"What is it Mister Calirosso?" she says, turning sharply. I hail a cab for the two of us and she daintily slips in, easy enough for her rather petite five feet and half an inch frame.

"How many tributes are in this year's arena? It's a stupid question, but we usually reserve the building of the pedestals for the last few months of the Pre-Games." I begin to explain just why we need to know how many pedestals there are going to be and continue to do so even as we pull up to the main studios.

"Why Mr. Calrisso, I would have thought an intellectual such as yourself would have been educated as to our tribute count, especially in light of recent events," she says sarcastically. We get down from the admittedly well-made cab and step into the studios where President Sleet makes her announcements.

"W-Why yes Madame President," I stutter. "But are there going to be more tributes than the standard 24? It is a quarter quell after all."

"Mr. Calrisso, in light of recent events, we are changing the standards," President Sleet says mysteriously. "I do not have to hide things from you, and the Quell does not change the active 12 Districts. Regardless, this year, we will start the new standard with this year. Recall, thirteen Districts, 2 tributes, making for a total of 26 tributes this year. Understood?"

Blinking rapidly I manage to put together my eloquent response. "Y-y-yeah, sure...with that it's sure to be a blast."

"Do not forget about the precision of language and I'm sure that we will now mutually understand each other, my dear friend."

"Yes, Madame President."

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **After so long waiting, my SYOT is finally here. I hope you guys rather enjoyed the taste of the prologue, and that this world ienoughht to lure you in. We may not see enough right now, but hopefully if I get submissions we'll see the world of Panem entirely expanded. Granted this is still a new thing so mistakes aren't exactly going to be nonexistent, so if I misportray your characters let me know and I'll fix them. as for creative liberties, I'll try not to emply them too much if I am without permission. I'm not sure when this is going to be updated but I'll be sure to get at least the reapings done promptly so that if heavens forbid that I cannot continue this fic, I can provide a summary of the loose concepts of the games.**

 **The form is both on my profile and at this link, there are also some good SYOT's on there that I suggest you submit to.**

 **I hope that was enough for you all, and happy submitting, and happy reading**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	2. Prologue, The Announcement

_Hera Iode, 38 years old, Emcee & Interviewer_

The main theater begins to fill almost simultaneously with the president's arrival. Even if I am the main news deliverer to the Capitol, President Sleet has taken the role many decades ago, and she absolutely loves to address the capitol in this way. I am forced to step down after a momentary introduction, but let the audience know who's hosting today.

"Let's give a warm welcome and ravenous applause to our great leader, and dear president, Corrina Sleet!" I shout as my superior moves down the massive flight of stairs to the main stage. We shake hands firmly before pulling into a platonic hug, and I move to the offstage section, getting a hug from Jupiter and sitting next to the six main gamemakers of this year's Hunger Games.

I turn to the stage in shock as I finally comprehend what the president happens to be wearing-and the only sentence that I can think of to describe it "Damn...what?"

As her wings behind her flutter, the music slowly swells to the main anthem. She grabs onto her hat and begins to play with the audience. The approval rates are infinitely many times higher than President Snow at his peak, and she has staunch supporters even in the lower Districts. Of course, they still hate us but a 35% approval rating would be better than a .05% approval rating.

"Thank you, Thank you," she says at the end of one lengthy spiel. Jupiter puts his hand in mine and rests his head on my shoulder guards. "Thank you for tuning in for my second quarter quell presentation. Of our 151 victors, only 6 have come out of such harrowing circumstances of previous quarter quells. Maury Everickson of District 9, Haymitch Abernathy of District 12, Donnabella Firest of District 11, the lethal youth team of Roryd Sakon of District 6 and Lilian Perad of District 12, and most recently, Avril Vorell of District 7."

"They haven't ever been careers," my husband duly notes. "I like careers." His simple speech is a definite sign of drunkenness but I'm sure to join him in the aftermath afterward. I caress his spiked green hair as he lolls in his sleep.

"On this landmark occasion, I'd like to draw attention to the often unmentioned characters of the 149 years of Hunger Games-the Districts," the president speaks up. The Capitol I know is restless but they always wait patiently for President Sleet. She begins a speech on the first 12 Districts and includes the 'Destroyed' District 13.

District 1 starts off her speech and she proclaims it to be one of the legendary career Districts, the weakest of the trio between Districts 1, 2, and 4, but a dazzling city gleaming on a series of hills and valleys. It's one of the three classic careers and always a favorite.

Sleet proclaims that District 2 has also been a longstanding favorite, as consistent of the mountains that border the District. With the most victors of Panem-including the very first, their tributes are strong, bold, and honorable, something that the Capitol always loves.

She calls District 3 a subtle threat, with always intelligent and unpredictable tributes, rarely growing strong but always growing smart. If there's one thing to look out for from the District, it's intelligence.

From District 4, Sleet calls the District a waterside paradise. It's the second most prosperous District career wise and home to many legends, time will tell if any of the fishermen would be able to prove their mettle in the harshness of the quarter quell.

District 5 is described as a quaint and essential District, having their favorites certain years and still proving respectable even in years when they fall flat. Though smart like District 3, these tributes are also strong enough to fight honorably.

Even though District 6 may be tied with the least amount of victors, times have been changing for the transporting District ever since a legendary victory in the second to last quarter quell. Ever since him, the tributes have just been getting stronger and stronger and will be one to look out for.

District 7 brings us to one of the traditional underdog Districts and the most powerful of the underdog trios. They find themselves in the career pack often and have been noble axemen and women with a variety of unpredictable strategies, definitely a power to look out for.

While one may not expect a threat from the admittedly rebellious and crowded District of District 8, Sleet describes the District as the dividing line between the weak and the strong, with lucky victors hardened from tough conditions of the street.

The endless fields of District 9 not only cultivate the necessary grain for our favorite pieces of bread but also surprisingly tough fighters. It's a roaring sea of amber that is lucky enough to produce several fires of its own that are tough in the arena.

From District 10 come underestimated and subtle fighters, fighting boldly, and always producing such interesting results. They're great fighters and a valued part of the Hunger Games, not ones to be missed for the near future.

District 11 is the agricultural backbone of much of Panem, feeding not just the Capitol, but all of the Districts. Due to bearing such a massive load for all of Panem's citizens, their children grow valued and strong, an integral part of Panem

While much of history has seen District 12 as the weakest in all of Panem, a victor in recent years just may shift the times. District 12 has had victors of revolutionary Hunger Games before and this year could be their chance.

There's thundering applause after her lengthy speech and it only dies down as she holds up her dainty but powerful right hand. "We cannot forget about the value that one of our legacies has left us," President Sleet begins to say.

"The world of District 13 is the furthest from the Capitol yet. From our sprawling surface megalopolis to the underground complex that makes up much of the District, it was our strangest asset of Panem. Graphite in our lubricants, writing utensils, and foundry molds for various Districts hailed from this District. Until it's destruction to end the infamous dark days."

"Or so we thought," Sleet adds. She gains the attention of the hundreds of dozens in the audience and continues. "Under our noses, District 13 has been thriving, mobile, and ready to join our lovely nation when the time comes. The time has in fact arrived."

The national anthem of Panem, a tune ingrained in many of our heads, plays loudly as one of her grandchildren, a pristinely dressed six-year-old boy going by Hadrinus Sportacus, walks up with the ceremonial box. "In reconnaissance of the fact that several materials were not readily available certain days of the tumultuous dark days, certain areas of the arena, certain medicines, and certain weapons shall be unable to be used for each alternating day in the arena. And in light of recent events, a more permanent twist shall be added. As a sign that the Capitol is able to allow the Districts to recover even in the midsts of tragedy, District 13 shall become a full fledged District of Panem once more, and shall have their tributes now participate in the annual hunger games. Thank you, Panem."

She walks off stage into her personal squadron of peacekeepers who swarm around her. Several news networks have their cameras abuzz and are currently interviewing some of the starlet elites. The broadcast of the Quarter Quell announcement is sure to make its way along the airways, and surely I have to reel in such a rowdy audience. "What a great night this is so far Panem," I say over voice over. I can only hope as I replay this night's broadcast that the tremble from this announcement can't be heard.

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **I know this chapter wasn't as good as the last one, but I hope that you got a good sense of world building from it. More or less, the victors who have appeared in ACAH will also be the same in this Quarter Quell fanfiction. So there's the twist, and I hope it's a good enough one for all of you. Thanks for reading, and let me know how I did via reviews, and be sure to follow. Maybe they'll amount to sponsorships.**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	3. Prologue, Construction

**Prologue: Construction**

 _Jacob Calirosso, 34 years old, Head Gamemaker_

"So we're sure that we want to do this?" Malaya Scarlon asks me. She's just as nervous as I am when talking to superiors. It kind of shows in her subtly designed clothes juxtaposed on her rather portly frame. Her green and black eyes tremble as she looks over the latest plans. She's the map maker and planner for the arena, and my second in command for a reason. But I'm glad she knows who's in charge.

"Malaya, realize that the most popular location for the arenas is between District 7 and the Capitol for a reason. The weather is close to our home, not as hot as the badlands of District 5, more dynamic than the subtropics of District 4 and 10, and that District 13 is no longer an option for the arenas. Transportation will run smoother there, and our supplies for these new additions will be there quickly." She squeaks as I rant before running off to blabber to the rest of our team.

I get up from my desk and jump down the 10 feet to join my second in command headgamemakers. "Jacob," Aderion Shorin, the public relations manager, greets me. Much like Malaya he's shorter and stubby, but he has a much more well adapted taste of clothing. He dusts off his green flanked coat and puts on a smile. "The under gamemakers are trying to get a general look on how District 13 is run, so that they can update their websites and give official press recordings."

"Well I don't know jackshit either." Rolling my eyes I notice an avox stride into the room, giving a drink to muttmaker Irradia Manir before walking to me. She carries with her a tube full of glitter and a message that the president needs to see me. In the glitter a poorly contained message says that's it's to talk about the state of District 13 at the present. "B-B-But I think we'll get the idea promptly…" I stutter with my confidence leaving me.

Aderion nods with an understanding grab at my shoulder before he returns to his position and gets on the phone with the main Capitol news network.

Blowing air into my tightly clasped hands I follow the avox into one of the president's private cabs and let the driver take me into the President's main office. Our last prisoner's execution has me on edge. She might remind me that my Head Gamemaker's position lasts only for 5 years, only to keep the population satiated for the decade to come, and I might be the next target. Then again, I may get a promotion, or a raise, or maybe a new home. But then those will come with catches, such as having to report more than weekly with her, having her on contact 24/7, having me as a main inforcer so much so that-

I'm jolted out of my thoughts with the arrival to the massive five story mansion, where the offices are on the first 2 stories and the living quarters are on the upper three. There are 2 sets of staircases, one that leads into private living quarters and a smaller and less ornate pair that leads into the main offices for the president.

 _Aderion Shorin, 35 years old, Public Relations Manager_

As Jacob leaves the heavily guarded and pristine room I pull up the files that President Sleet privately sent. Aldric apparently wasn't the only prisoner. Another leader went out with much less of a fight and they took a second in command who was apparently a head of nuclear development and trying to train it to the Capitol.

Much like Aldric's execution, the leader's execution, this one another man going by the name of Zeta Wickons, starts with Sleet talking to the prisoner. The prisoner is much more relenting than this time and gets a bit more of a merciful execution, but still scary nonetheless. My eyes go wide as he's sent on a conveyor belt with the sounds of machinery running in the background, the most prominent being a piston. The prisoner tries to escape this time and barely doesn't, but trips over the belt and gets squashed by the piston and sprays blood everywhere.

I look around sure that I'm not being watched and briefly go back to my main server. With a sigh I send a message out to some of the server moderators in District 3. _Be sure to add some of the sound files that we sent you to some of the features of the new arena. But don't reveal too much, or else I'm going to blast off into oblivion._

With that message sent I view the last execution as of late. Like the previous two, Sleet gets some information out of the prisoner, a girl going by Zebulon Nebule, before she's executed unceremoniously. She's given the most brutal execution I've seen yet. A chain manifests out of nowhere, wraps around her neck, and drags her to a batting cage. She's pelted with baseballs to death, and her blood scatters everywhere.

I almost scream after seeing the video and hastily move to a different display in order to work on some more apparent needs. A brochure for arena tours needs to be completed and finalized for last year's arena, a dark cavern with many beautiful light features. I continue to work as I notice the rest of us simply milling about.

 _Malaya Scarlon, Vice HeadGamemaker, 30 years old_

I shiver uncontrollably as I look at the footage of the third Quarter Quell, the one with victor's relatives. Taking place in a horrendous clock, the Hunger Games lasted for six days, the digital root of 24, with a third of the tributes dying to the bloodbath and six tributes falling to the horrors of the arena.

As gamemakers we aren't supposed to feel mercy to the tributes, but as the first death occurs, I know that they've been spared much of the horror. The youngest tribute in the arena falls off of her pedestal and I can swear that the jabberjay mutts were ringing as the girl, Audley, had her pedestal obliterated. After the miniature wave gets sent to her wedge partner the bloodbath begins in earnest.

I hold tightly onto the cushions as I change the video feed to one of my favorite mash ups, the bloodbath mash up. All bloodbaths from Hunger Games 8 onward with their massive amount of deaths feature heavily with hundreds of tibutes dying in the single opening hour. It'll be hard to have this year's games live up to the hype of years past.

I unfold the map of the arena that I've made so far, looking over the replica of the old popular resort, seeing it unfold over massive pathways of many areas. "Irradia," I call over. Her petite frame traipses across the polished metal floors of our offices quickly. With her she brings a case of models of her muttations and I lay the map out on the table. "So what is it you had planned for this bear?"

Irradia smiles and opens her mouth as she begins to tell me. "He's in the forest, the central mutt, and he can talk and leads his friends though the ceter of the woods, as they'll call it. They need a lot of help so if the tributes successfully help then they get a good item. That's going to be determined by Corrin. So that's the main gimmick of the Hundred Acre Woods besides it being big."

"So the mutts are for the most part peaceful?"

"Yeah, unless they fail at getting the object or don't give it. Then they die. Simple as that."

I nod in confirmation as the monitor begins to display a request for communication. Aderion accepts the call immediately and puts us all on the feed. "Hey guys," Jacob says awkwardly. "The president wants us to add something, so uhh, take notes?"

"What is it?" Corrin Dexter asks nonchalantly.

"Remember what the president did to the prisoner a while ago?" he says with a wince. "She wants that in the arena. She has about a dozen more ideas and wants to see at least one programmed for the games."

"Oh," Irradia says loudly. "No problem then. I'll just fix the mutts and we can have that appear in the games. I went over this with you, but remember the fetch tasks that we have the tributes doing? If they fail, then they die like that," Irradia says happily.

Jacob lets out a sigh of relief and turns his attention to Corrin. "Corrin, work with Aderion to get the 'executions' to the arena. Malaya, just get the map adjusted for our convenience. Finish finding the locations of the mutts with Irradia. And then Irradia, I'll work with you for a design on the main mutt. I'll see you guys then."

The video ends and we get to work, sure that we can finish in time for the Hunger Games in about 5 months. I just get to work adjusting the designs of the map. I layer it over the illuminated table and get to work as per usual. Corrin puts on some infernally annoying music to 'get him in the mood' and I have to resist snapping a pencil and burying it in his skull.

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **So I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, it was a quick look at the team behind the despair inducing arena this year and they're jsut so willing to suck the hope out of the unlucky 26 tributes...upupupu**

 **As for some thoughts, I am in need of more tributes since I don't want to have to make final decisions just yet, see my profile for details. Also the deadline has been established as 2017's summer solstice. in the meanwhile I'll probably be making another prologue and devising some sort of sponsorship program with these rules. In case I do pull through with the sponsorship, I'll ask this question for 10 bonus sponsor points. Which 2 franchises in general are going to be represented with the arena? [questions like these will be optional, and there is no penalty for getting these wrong]**

 **Anyways, I hope you guys submit, School's out for me so I hope to be writing for the summer**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	4. Prologue, Careers

**Prologue: Careers**

 **6 days before Reaping Day, 06/15/150ADD**

 _Kyrenia Lorfous, Victor of Hunger Games 133, District 2 Female Mentor, 35 years old_

With a sip of my wine I look down at the gymnasium from our catwalks as one of our more senior victors, Merit Vindal of Hunger Games 87, continues to talk with Shale and I. "We are lucky that the circumstances of this quarter quell allowed us to pick our volunteers," she says properly while reclining on one of the guy wires. "Several of the Past Quarter Quells really fucked us over."

"Not like we've won any of them," Shale disdainfully says. "When it boils down to it, the quells are just a chance to get rid of the weaklings and let them have some time to shine."

"Then how do you explain Maury, Haymitch, Donnabella, Roryd, Lillian, and Avril? They were all strong in their own rights. Don't insult them," Merit passionately says. The former headmistress still holds authority over much of us victors in District 2, and her four scores don't weaken her death glare at all.

"Do we want to go the collaborative route?" I ask. "With 26 tributes in the arena we're going to have to find out who the careers are."

"Let's just go traditional. Even if 7, 8, and 9 have their careers they're a bit more volatile than usual," Shale replies.

"The matters can be discussed after the train rides," I say, wanting to just stop the conversation in general. "With 26 tributes I guess that we are going to have to see. That's the only thing."

Merit and Shale nod at my declaration and make their way down the catwalks. I don't choose to follow them and rest at one of the catwalks overlooking the main entrance. District 2 is the most successful of the careers but we always suffer losses, and the wall that is the main entrance isn't big enough for the fallen portraits. Finding my face isn't that hard with the gold frame that surrounds my portrait. There are 26 gleaming pictures with the newest one from last year.

With my favorite book in my hand from one of my favorite authors, I begin to tune out the shouts of the trainees and trainers below me. Cleopatra Anatullah of the 11th Hunger Games wrote this poetry book a century ago. Panem was a different world back then, and it's so easy to get lost in it.

 **5 days before Reaping Day, 06/16/150ADD**

 _Glisten Hevault, Victor of Hunger Games 138, District 1 Female Mentor, 30 years old_

"Sorry, I have to go. Will I get the chance to talk to you again?" the heaving pig at the end of the line asks through heaved breaths.

"Oh don't worry Mr. Tendranus. I hope to see you plenty in the upcoming weeks." After avoiding vomiting at my sweet voice he giggles in excitement and hangs up. I pull out my planner and record the interaction between one Adrian Tendranus. I really can't complain, under Sleet, the severity of the Victor's market has really dwindled and we're only allowed to have 4 clients per capitol visits but we have to entertain some Capitol residents in the off season.

"Anyone home?" I hear someone ask.

"In the kitchen," I say. The voice's owner walks into the kitchen and hugs me around the shoulders. "Lovely walk my darling?"

"Got my girlfriend a gift so that's always great," Shimmer says. I notice her rubbing her leg on my own and speaking in that tone. "So is Value coming around soon?"

"He should be, yesterday he said his mother's just about healed, I missed having him in our bed."

"I do too," she says. There's a teasing glint as we move in to kiss each other, feeling the warmth that's been a present figure ever since I came home from the Hunger Games. We hear the door opening and turn to see our boyfriend, the studly and well-groomed Value stride into the room confidently. "Next week it's just going to be me and Value, isn't it?"

"Then we'll just have to treasure our time together. Come on, Value looks hungry. Let's give him something to eat."

 _Avril Vorell, Victor of Hunger Games 125, District 7 Female Mentor, 41 years old_

"Your honor, if you would open your eyes once more, realize that this soul, who has been established as located miles away from the Calgary Camp, whose as gentle as a honey bee, has enough evidence to free him from the horrors of the prison camp." At the end of my speech, the audience of 36 senior trainees of the Academy looks to the actor playing the judge.

"It seems the jury has already made their decision. Please, Mrs. Jameson, stand up and reveal to us your verdict."

"We of the Alberta justice jury find the defendant, Mr. Walter Dawson, not guilty of the murder of Ms. Juneau Pullbery." The play ends to rowdy applause from 36 teenagers while the 16 of us in the troupe take a final bow before striding off stage.

Joshua takes our place on the stage and dismisses the rest of our trainees to their leisure time. With District 7 as the most powerful District besides the three main careers, he looks at his students with beaming pride as he thanks us for our performance.

As I take a sip of water I find Cinder walking up with his friends, laughing and smiling. "Mom, thanks for bringing your troupe over lately." At 16 years old he's been growing up decidedly strong and tall among the trees of District 7. "We really appreciate it."

"So are you guys coming home with me? Or should I wait awhile?"

"We'll just be heading out to the tavern. None of us are going to volunteer, and that great scene just put us in a partying mood, even with the quell in a couple of days," Tassy Fogrell, Cindy's girlfriend, says warmly. "Thanks again Ms. Vorell."

I give a quick hug to Cinder and Tassy while the rest of their friends continue to chat. "11307, Pomeranian, Duck," I say quietly to Cinder. The two of them turn away with their friends among playful punches and loud instances of profanity.

"USE A CONDOM CINDY! AND WHEN YOU FUCK HER REMEMBER TO USE YOUR TONGUE!" I shout as they leave. Even with his back turned to me, I can still tell that he's blushing.

I smile at the trainees before heading out myself, turning right into the forested Victor's Village and heading home. I look around uneasily before turning on the sidewalk lamps and moving inside quickly. The circumstances of my quarter quell meant that I had to be kidnapped a week before the reaping, held as prisoner, and driven away from my family. Now, Cinder's the only one I have. Even if he doesn't know who his father is, I'm sure he'll find out.

Before I sleep I turn on the layers and layers of security systems. Even if Cinder gets hurt, I'll save him. I'll keep my family with me.

 **2 days before Reaping Day, 06/19/150ADD**

 _Indigo Newsom, Victor of Hunger Games 134, District 8 Male Mentor, 33 years old_

With my eyes darting I head out from the alley. Puffy Bellino should be on her way as well. We can't keep meeting like this, but the alleys I've been in are the safest, and Puffy is familiar with this. We both met like this when dating each other and where we broke up 2-3 years ago? That's a good time frame. Though if this keeps up we both run the risk of-

"Digo!" someone shouts out to me. I turn around to see Oliver, my twin brother. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Why the fuck would you want to know?" I say harshly. "I was going home either way. What did you need me here for anyway?"

"The others are looking for you. It is the week before the quell."

"Right." The conversation drones off as we hop over the dirtied streets of District 8. The main portion of the town is several blocks away from where we are at this moment. It's one of the few places not coated with a musky blanket of smog overhead. With both Victor's Village and our training academy only about 1500 feet away from the entrance to the main town square, Oliver really doesn't have to explore beyond our square to support him and his family. "Where are they?"

"Training center," he says in a hushed voice. Even with the presence of our academy, it's still regarded as taboo among the commoners. I head over with him past the main gymnasium and into the main office. All of our surviving victors sit around the table and begin to prepare several documents. I bid farewell to my brother as the other three slide over documents.

"Do we want a volunteer this year?" I ask warily, grabbing at a roll.

"With how you've been acting ever since your victory, I don't think a volunteer would be the safest. We're strong without them and strong with them. None of the kids are going to do it either," Denim says tiredly. I look around the table to see the Wendell and Velvet nodding in agreement.

"Then why are we here?" I ask callously.

"You," Wendell says quickly before he slightly twitches. "You're going off rogue, and while we agree on your causes, understand that health has improved for District 8's youth because of this facility. If you do too much, you could jeopardize all of us." He awkwardly glances at his cut off arm and leaves me to dwell at the statement.

"Indigo, you're the only success that the tribute Academy had," Denim says. "But I think you get the point."

After a moment of reflection, I stand up and nod. "I guess we all are done here." I get nods of approval as I leave the room. I know that the victors are just like me but they're right. We can't be rebellious in such a tense year. I need to warn my ex.

 **1 day before Reaping Day, 06/20/150ADD**

 _Caleb Miller, Victor of Hunger Games 145, District 9 Male Mentor, 23 years old_

" _With a quick glance at the clock, the poor chap knew that he was running out of time. As the minute hand slowly ticked to the silent 6 at the bottom of the tool and slowly pulled the boy's nervousness. It took an hour to go to the reaping, and he was going to volunteer. If District 9 was new in the career circles it didn't show. Having a volunteer about every five years and a pair of volunteers every decade was new but something that his family grew used to. He glanced at the clock one more-"_

A loud knocking at my office door shocks me up from my writing mood and immediately sends me into high alert mode. "It's just you," I say.

"How's the monologue going?" Tenor asks. With him being my best friend for about 80% of my life, he's the only one I will allow to enter the offices without security, unlike Nadia and her baker's dozen of grandchildren.

"Just trying to get in the zone. Then it's going to be another charade of the strong and humble District 9 career who wanted the best for his family," I say tiredly.

He hugs me tightly and I reciprocate it. "It'll be fine," he simply says.

"It's only going to be my second year of this, going up on stage again, at least Gerald is coming along," I sigh. "I don't know how you do it, but you know what to say."

"Friends are friends for a reason, aren't we?" He pulls out his lunch pail and shares a drink with me. On the bottle, I see some directions to the field. I can hear the drumming of his fingertips as he slowly tears into his sandwich. "Tornado in Des Moines center. Moved to Rapids, 12 dead, fifteen fields ruined entirely. They aren't going to the reaping soon."

We finish the rest of the meal in silence as his eyes dart around my office. "I'm going to close up right now, wanna go to town?"

"Sure," he says excitedly. "I need a new shirt, and don't you need to look good for tomorrow?"

"Oh shut up. Don't make me wear a dress again. I'm done with plantation style dresses ever since my arena," I shout. "Let's go you big stud."

"Come on honey pie."

 _Bruce Chardon, Victor of Hunger Games 141, District 4 Male Mentor, 27 years old_

"Dad, what are the careers?" Dory asks sweetly.

"Well," I say, crouching down to my 3-year-old daughter. "I was one. Aunt Nymphia was one, Tita Anemone was one, most of your Kapamilya in the Victor's village is a career."

"But what is it?" she asks impatiently.

"You know that game I won before you were born?" She nods and I continue to talk quietly. "Careers are people who train for those games. They practice to win those Hunger Games and practice not to lose poorly even if they can't win, and they save people who can't win the game."

"Like teams? Like the pirate teams?"

"Yes, like that." She immediately smiles and runs to grab her toy boat. "Sometimes they play on boats because they want to be prepared."

"You aren't the only career, are you?"

"District 4 isn't the only career team. Districts 2 and 1 are also starting career teams. Our friends in District 7, you know what they use, right?"  
"Axes!"

"You're Right! They use axes and are careers like us. District 8 and 9 also have career teams, but 7, 8, and 9 do not have volunteers often. They are as strong as us, and they are our friends even if they aren't as strong as us. Respect all careers when they come over. And that is anyone from 1, 2, 4, 7, 8, and 9. Okay, little guppy?"

"Okay Daddy!" she says gleefully. I let her run off to her toys as some of the gentler scenes of the Hunger Games run off in the background. I look out onto the private sea to see Miriel's boat coming in after a rough day on the ocean. I smile as I see her step out with her haul behind her. "Is Mommy home yet?"

"She's coming up, just wait my little guppy," I say with a playful ruffle of her head.

 _Nathan Brinners, District 13 Student. 19 years old_

"Come on, aren't you lucky that you aren't getting reaped?" Even with the smile on my face, I manage to glare at my best friend and biggest annoyance. "Okay, not in a chill mood, I see," Arx says quietly.

"You realize that I have 3 siblings up for grabs. And with the recent shortage, I'm not happy with them taking tesserae!"

"Sorry," he says, holding my shoulder. "But there are 5,000 eligible teens, they aren't getting picked."

"I hope so… you finished your essay on the 3rd Quarter Quell right?"

"Yeah, screw the capital for making us take one more semester of history. It was interesting though."

"You're going into history after your reconnaissance duty, aren't you?"

"Of course, I love history, but I guess it can't get past your metal skull, amirite?"

"So educate me," I mockingly say, holding my soft drink above the table by about 8 inches. "Tell me about the 75th Hunger Games."

"Since you asked Mr. Brinners," he starts, putting on his best teaching face. "Heralded by Head Gamemaker Neddrina after the scandal of the 74th, another subterfuge plot from junior gamemaker Plutarch Heavensbee almost meant that the third quarter quell was unable to happen. But with Heavensbee's unfortunate execution, Neddrina was able to carry the weight of the Family Quell, as it was known, on her shoulders. Tell me, what was this twist and why?"

"In order to punish Katniss Everdeen who volunteered for her sister, all family members over 10 years old and at least 4 degrees away from the victors were eligible to be reaped. Am I right Mr. Rodrenn?"

"I'm so proud of my student. He's going to become the first person to become the manager of the nuclear robot unit who graduated with an F average."

I punch him on the shoulder as we laugh over our meal, forgetting about the reaping.

* * *

 **Hey guys, Hopps here**

 **Sorry for the bit without an Update but I hope you enjoyed this chapter nonetheless. I forgot to mention that the Second rebellion didn't occur in this universe, and there were some bits about the careers that I wanted to expand on. So yeah, Districts 7, 8, and 9 were 'gifted' career academies and though they aren't as proficient as bringing tributes home, they are still considered careers if they volunteer. There are more teenagers not parts of these academies than there are, so volunteering is a little more than uncommon but still possible. So career submitters if you want, there are 3 new Districts that opened up.  
And the second rebellion never happened due to Heavensbee's execution. A different headgamemaker rose to the task and thrust victor relatives into the Hunger Games.**

 **Sorry if this chapter was incoherent, if you want me to explain things, let me know.**

 **Also, I am extending the deadline to the end of the month so I have more room to get tributes to decide. Anyways, thanks for reading, leave a review, favorite, and submit if you would**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	5. Prologue, Stage Night

**Prologue: Mono-pooh-ma's Exposition**

 _Irradia Manir, 40 years old, Head Muttations expert_

 _After the reapings_

"Why do I have to do this?" Corrin whines.

With a roll of my eyes I turn to him as I face him in the special controller's chair that he's in. "You're the most neutral out of all of us, the floater, you aren't important unless we need you to make an announcement," I say. He grumbles unwillingly but faces the screen like he's supposed to. "Put on that helmet, we still have to check if the transformation works, and we have 3 hours before we're supposed to be online!"

The mutt, one of the hardest I've ever had to make in such a short timeframe, is in front of the screen and currently dancing in front of the test desk. It's a deceptively cute critter, resembling a yellow plush bear while wearing a short red shirt over his portly tummy. "Turn the dial five eights of the way around, hold my breath, switch levers 3 and 7, and set voice modification to raspy."

Before my eyes we see the plush bear mutt turn from the cutest toy there was to a monochromatic cub of horrors. With a clean division through the middle of it's belly, now distended with a visible navel, it's representing what the tributes fight for and against: Hope and Despair. "Let's hear you speak Corrin," I say, teeming with excitement.

"Well fuck you too Irradia, I'm sure that you want to be in control, putting me in this cockamamie get up in order to simply please your desires all for the sake of entertainment?!" He says. The audio is transferred through the mutt and echoed in a raspy and annoying voice.

"IT WORKS!" I shout in glee. "TURN BACK!" At the success of his last transformation I carry the mutt out of the room, having it deactivated, and place it onto the stage almost as soon as Hera Iode finishes her closing remarks about the 26 chosen tributes.

 _Corrin Dexter, 31 years old, Mediatior_

"And now, to give us the best wishes and the sponsor material, our main mutt, Winnie-The-Pooh!" Hera shouts loudly, garnering massive applause like she always does, though that might be because of the quell. Finishing my glass of water I put on the headset to control the Mutt, moving it to the center with a gaping smile and adding in a humble wave here and there.

"Hello," I say, letting my voice get used to the modifier. "It's quite nice to meet you all, I'd have to say. And you all seem to be so happy. Are you?" I get a roaring amount of applause and immature squealing as a result. "I'm so excited to show you my home, the arena of the 150th Hunger games, hopefully my friends and I will have just enough hunny to spread around."

I have to resist throwing up at my overly saccharine voice while the images of the map are displayed on the floor below the Pooh mutt and the massive screen behind me. I move the mutt to the center of the map with a light trot and smile at the audience. "All of our new friends, our 2 baker's dozens of friends, will be there. Lucky thing for me, it is in the center of the Hungered Acre Woods, so I will see my new friends in a moment. As my other self would explain, it's the best thing there is. This part of the arena will grow, just like my bonds will all of you, and it will never be closed off."

I move the mutt from place to place. It's an awkward design for the arena, and replicated on the screen it looks even more distorted due to the unorthodox hourglass shape. "North is going to be closed more often than south, from what my new friends all tell me. Furthest north is a zany land. My oldest friends, the giant mouse and his family and friends all live in beautiful and creative houses. Due south, is a land of princesses, royalty, and regality, in a beautiful land of castles to the highest skies and mountains of the tallest peaks. It is the home of the kingdoms of Corona, the wei dynasty, and Arendelle. Just southeast we have a tech lover's paradise of amusement rides, science, and intelligence. There are tall buildings and fun events from both TodayLand and the Tri State Area. I don't quite get the fuss over it."

The audience laughs lightly and I move the mutt west to the large animal based home. "Zootopia, a land where a mammal can be a mammal, where all your dreams can be fulfilled. A land of opportunity despite its flat and heated areas. It's fun visiting my friends over there in savanna, tundra town, the rainforest, sahara square, the meadowlands, the marshlands, the nocturnal district, and outback island."

I move the mutt south, taking a break to sip water as the graphics adapt to the change in scenery. I move southeast past the edge of the Hundred Acre woods into the desert. "This desert is a large land of emptiness, not very fun, but also very mysterious. The roar of an engine shouts through the emptiness and they mysterious land is home to quite the buggy friends. The land to the very south is the largest ocean. It is very large after the small pier onward. I like to splash but visiting my friends in Atlantis or at Mata Nui is hard."

For the last location I move slightly northeast towards the center to the American mix. "Three skyscrapers, a lovely beach, and shadowy places make this place perfect for hide and seek with my many friends, some of them on the other side, some out of this world, and some just for good company."

Taking a deep breath I move the mutt back to the center of the map, grabbing at my water bottle and flipping it away. I face the intrigued audience and give a smiling bow before going midway to transformation. "As the rules stae, I have to make sure our newfoudn friends don't go in certain areas for the day. One day, you may not be able to go into the kingdom of Corona and the Tri State area. Then the next, you may not be able to swim to Motunui or to the old town. My home will always be open, but think of the despair the wanderers may feel."

"Don't think that the arena is the only thing that will be closed off. One day, you may not be able to eat fruit, the other day you may not be able to use bladed weapons, and then the other, you may not be able to use backpacks and your nondominant hand! And we will catch the rule breakers, and they'll be punished in due time...upoohpoohpoohpooh.." I laugh, slowly guiding the mutt away from the stage. Irradia deactivates the mutt as we hear massive amounts of applause from the much too eager audience. Suddenly I'm in the mood for Panta.

 _Hera Iode, 38 years old, Emcee & Interviewer_

When the mutt leaves the stage I allow the smile on my face to drop as I address the audience once more. "So I know what you're all thinking- 'MAN THE GAMEMAKERS HAVE GOT A REALLY GREAT QUARTER QUELL FOR US THIS YEAR!', and you know what? They do, let's give them a round of applause as a good luck charm for the dutiful gamemakers."

I beckon the team of 5 headgamemakers to come out, Aderion Shorin, Malaya Scarlon, Jacob Calirosso, Corrin Dexter, and Irradia Manir. They all take a quick bow before hurriedly running off to check in on their sponsorship materials. They pull up the list on the screen, officially starting the sponsor part of the hunger Games. They display the names of the 26 tributes from the largely successful reapings.

Looking up at the presidential box, I am astonished to see her smiling and laughing with her grandchildren-well moreso that I can apparently hear her laughter even on the stage floor. "Let's wish all of our tributes luck for this amazing quarter quell, and dare say, let the odds be ever in their favor." I fall through the trapdoor as the screen behind me shows both the Tribute list and the sponsorship information. I pull out my own contacts and get to work perusing the sites. It's the busiest time of year again.

 _Sponsorship for the Sixth Quarter Quell_

 _ **Food:**_

 _Dried Fruit: 4 point_

 _Fresh Fruit: 8 points_

 _Dried Meat: 12 points_

 _Fresh Meat: 14 points_

 _Small meal-bowl of soup, saltine crackers, and three slices of fresh fruit: 20 points_

 _Medium meal-customizable sandwich with 2 toppings, dried meat, and one whole fruit: 28 points_

 _Large meal-3 slices of fresh meat, 1 customizable sandwich, 1 small bowl of soup, 2 fresh fruits: 42 points_

 _ **Water:**_

 _Water skin: 4 point_

 _1.5 liter of water: 6 points_

 _1 gallon pitcher full of water: 12 points_

 _3 gallon pitcher of water: 14 points_

 _Iodine: 16 points_

 _ **Medicine:**_

 _All purpose Cream: 8 points_

 _Bandages: 12 points_

 _Gauze: 12 points_

 _Splint: 20 points_

 _Sleeping Syrup: 22 points_

 _Pack of wound dressers: 26 points_

 _Adrenaline shot: 32 points_

 _ **Comfort Items:**_

 _Piece of Paper & Pen: 6 points_

 _Blanket: 8 points_

 _Tent: 14 points_

 _Letter from home: 14 points_

 _Full set of clothes: 16 points_

(Other messages are to be sent with private messages from mentors to the head gamemaking team)

 _ **Prices increase by a factor of 2^X where x is every new block announcement per 12 hours**_

 _ **District 1: Nikos Marbello, 18 years old & Layla Ranevall, 18 years old**  
_

 _ **District 2: Desmond Pick, 18 years old & Antoinette Vermur, 18 years old**_

 _ **District 3: Fabian Drason, 16 years old & Zippina Cayen, 16 years old**_

 _ **District 4: Kimberly McAuckswatch, 16 years old & Regan Attwater, 18 years old**_

 _ **District 5: Jon Cheris, 14 years old & Nidawi Sebille, 17 years old**_

 _ **District 6: Adam Cufole, 17 years old & Janine Midnight, 14 years old**_

 _ **District 7: Aster Mallory, 17 years old & Juniper Aspens, 17 years old**_

 _ **District 8: Jensen Allard, 12 years old & Lenora Cotton, 16 years old**_

 _ **District 9: Samuel Palmer, 18 years old & Naomi Palmer, 12 years old**_

 _ **District 10: Valonia Kalene, 12 years old & Atticus Landry, 16 years old**_

 _ **District 11: Kaney Mayes, 13 years old & Ember Hayfield, 17 years old**_

 _ **District 12: Naette Quill, 12 years old & Erudite Soot, 17 years old**_

 _ **District 13**_ _ **: Jakob Torser, 17 years old & Neve Seren Orion, 16 years old**_

* * *

 **Hey guys, Hopps here**

 **Man am I glad to introduce this chapter! AFter a month of build up, we have a cast list, and a sponsorship system to boot! I tried my damndest to have a diverse cast but what it ultimately boiled down to was first come first serve. I'm sorry to any one I have had to reject, but alas, luck of the cards was not in your hands.**

 **Anyways, besides them, the chapter I'd say was interesting. I'd love to know your thoughts on this chapter in particular, since we learn about the arena...and guess the 2, yes 2 themes, and you'll get 5 bonus points**

 **THAT REMINDS ME! at the end of every chapter I will have some comprehension questions each worth a given amount of points. This chapter will have 10, as a result of not having sponsor questions before the system was devised. And don't worry, since the sponsor questions are not the only way to get points, if you've left reviews, you get 5 points per review, if you favorited and or followed then you get 5 points per action.**

 **With that said, I'm pumped to get the reapings started (randomly) and with these sponsor questions, they'll kick off, answers will be posted on my profile when the next chapter goes up.**

 **1\. Who is the Warden of the prison? [3 points]**

 **2\. How old is the person who had the first perspective? [4 points]**

 **3\. What is the grandson of President Sleet named? [5 points]**

 **4\. Which District is regarded as the dividing line between strong and weak? [9 points]**

 **5\. What colors are Malaya Scarlon's eyes? [6 points]**

 **6\. Who views the other prisoner executions? [4 points]**

 **7\. Who won Hunger Games 87? [4 points]**

 **8\. What language does Bruce incorporate words from? [9 points]**

 **9\. Who controls the main mutt? [3 points]**

 **10\. What are the 2 main colors of the 'gentle' version of the main mutt? [3 points]**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	6. Reaping, Verdant Forest

_**Reaping: Verdant Forest**_

 _Juniper Aspens, 17 years old, Daydreamer_

 _2 weeks before the reaping_

"Lily, Lily," I call out into our simple home. She takes quite a while to come out of her little corner. Lily gets up from her slumber like a mighty turtle ready to reawaken. I heard that story quite a while ago and I quite like the idea of it.

My pet isn't a turtle as much as I'd like it to be, but a dog, Mom and Dad spent a while getting her, so I very much love Lily's company when she always wants to. "Come on girl," I say warmly, nuzzling her head as she excitedly replies. I open the door for her as she plods along, wagging her tail as she waits just on our porch. I silently shut the door, sure to lock it and look into the maze of brown and green in front of me.

I put a smile on my face while I walk into the forest on a well-worn path that I found several weeks ago. Finding it was the start of a new adventure, finding a way to the hidden village, and maybe it'll lead to treasure. I look around like a fantasy hero would, on the lookout for enemies leaping out. I look to my side and find that Lily isn't my pet dog anymore. She's a mighty wolf, with well-worn fur, and a wicked grimace. Lily hears a sound in the forest, a slight ruffle in the leaves, and I sic her at the threat. She leaps into the underbrush, fighting against a mighty beast.

I stand on the side, cheering at the battle unfolding below me, and soon my own sidekick comes out victorious, with the corpse of his slain enemy. Then it's back to reality as Lily nuzzles her head against my leg. "Good job Lily, you vanquished the beast," I compliment, falling to the ground and letting her hug me.

"Oh look at that, one mutt kissing another," I hear a rude voice call out. I hold Lily close to me as I find the source of the voice behind me. Instantly my spirits plummet but I keep the smile on my face. With her curly brown hair, she's a villain in her own right, a presently poor person with her equally posh and poor boyfriend at her heels.

"I thought you lived on the good side of District 7 with the better flowers and trees," I replied airily. "I think you have to take 3 hours to get there on foot, no?"

"Curfew ain't until 10 for the two of us," Kara Birchwood says. "Besides, our friends understand if we're a bit late for dinner, don't yours?"

"Oh wait, you have none besides that mangy bitch of yours," Kara's boyfriend, Ash says annoyingly. They laugh together. I try to join in but it comes out as a choke. "What better way to spend our hours before curfew than taunting-what is it you called her again?"

"The walking marble statue? The ghost of a statue? Sound right?"

"Yeah, it does." They laugh again. I hold Lily closer to me as I hear her growl against my bullies.

"Can I go now? I kind of want to find the treasure," I plead.

"What treasure? The better-looking hair? The mirror to make you beautiful?" Kara says, holding Ash's hand. He laughs along but quietly and slowly wraps his arm around Kara. "Let's go, babe, aren't we supposed to get a stud like you on the punching bags tonight? For next year's victory?"

He winks silently and kisses her on the lips. I take Lily with me and slowly slip out. Past the loving couple, I see Ash opens his eyes for a moment and catch a brief glint of sympathy before he turns back and begins kissing Medusa. I sigh and continue on the trail to the treasure. It's a giant tree with a tiny brook next to it. I rest Lily along the roots as she explores before I climb to one of the branches in reach.

From below I see my wolf/dog venture from the cave of the roots to the brook of valiance, chasing after a fluttering bird. Sometimes my sidekick is successful in bringing in a bit of extra food, but today is not that day when I see her fall into the mud. I look at the branch in front of me, noting the sturdiness of nature, and finding it a surprisingly comfortable pillow. I resist falling asleep on the blanket and climb down after the sun sinks several degrees in the sky.

"Let's head home Lily, hopefully, Medusa won't bother us," I joke. She smiles enthusiastically and plods along, okay with not getting a meal for the night.

When I arrive at home I can hear my father working from the open windows. The sun has barely begun to set but with the long shadows over my house, I try to make my way inside quickly. "Come on girl," I say to Lily. I open the door for her and she gets to the corner of our simple living room, wiping her feet on the hardwood floor.

"Dinner's ready Junie, if you want to join us right now," dad says.

"Sure, I'll join, is mom coming?"

"She says that she has a lot of stock to take care of. At the very least her job isn't too groce for her to handle it."

I laugh at my dad's quick quip and sit with him at our small three person table. I tell him about the stories I made for the day with Lily and going to the great tree at the end of a trail. He looks on interestedly. He says his day wasn't as good, and he looks tired. I can tell because he left his nametag, the one that says Beech Aspens, on his shirt.

Mom shows up after Dad tells about his day. She's been walking back and forth delivering groceries so I pull out a chair for her and Dad sets up her meal. "It's always great to have dinner with the two women I love the most," Dad says.

"But what about Lily?" I jokingly ask.

"Don't get me wrong, and don't tell her I said this, but I think she's kind of a bitch," he says quietly. Dad begins to say more jokes as mom tells her stories about her day delivering groceries. She's tall so she had to take stuff off of the top shelf often and saved enough to get me a bit of ear cleaner. I can hear things good but not as well as my parents so they've been saving for that.

It's like a power up really, and I look forward to leveling up. Mom and Dad finish their dinner quickly and leave me to eat. I can hear them talk but I choose not to listen and focus on my food. Occasionally a streak of extremely white hair falls in front of my eyes. I brush them away before looking at my food, noticing how they could make a map. It's a cool map with a tiny gravy lake, butter hills, and meat mountains. I have a lot of fun with it before I finally finish my food.

My mom takes my plate away and lets me watch some television. There has been a lot of information on this year's hunger games. It's interesting but scary. I fall asleep watching a replay of a previous forest being burned down. I dream of adventure, and I know that tomorrow there'll be more after school.

 _Aster Mallory, 17 years old, Artist_

 _9 days before the reaping_

With a cough I turn away from the fallen tree, placing a flag on top of it to denote its location. I'm about to start on another mighty tree when I look at my pouch, noting it empty. I'm fifth to finish in the 8th Lumberjack squad and duly report it to my supervisor, who stands at a mighty six foot five. At Six foot, I can be considered tall but my wiry build makes me look smaller than the rest. "Turn in your axe, clock out in the main headquarters, and I will see you next week," he says briefly.

"Thank you, sir," I say quietly. I pass the rows and rows of felled trees to reach the low and shabby building, involuntarily scratching at my right arm. It's slow and dilapidated as usual, with the jeeps waiting outside to bring us home. I hold my helmet in my hands before falling in the pay collect line. The woman at the desk is tired much like the rest of us, and the heat is a bit odd to go through, so I can't blame her.

"Next," she shouts out, calling the next lumberjack up to the front. I look around to the side, tired and weary, looking around for any of my fellow squad mates. It takes me 2 more shifts to the front before I find someone. Davie Tennison catches my eye with a wave. I smile back but turn my attention to the front, grabbing my pay quietly. I bow my head as she gives me the cold bills and stuff my helmet under my arm.

The jeep out to my community hasn't left yet so I climb upon the jeep and rest for a while. Before I manage to pull out my tiny notepad and writing stick, Davie climbs up, smiling like he always does. "Hey Aster," he says casually, sitting next to me. I don't have to look very high up to acknowledge his existence, since at 5'7" he's the shortest guy on the team. Yet with considerable bulk, he has as much of a presence as always. "Good job today, get your payment?"

"Yeah. I didn't see you get paid in a while. Just because the other guys called you out the other day on that one tree doesn't mean that ou should not get paid either," I reply. I can hear a small 'oh' come from him and he returns to his thoughts. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him play with his rainbow bead necklace, a gift that he said was from coming out. He fiddles with it on his hands idly long enough for me to finish my latest sketch.

I look at the drawing subtly, finding another sketch of my long deceased father. I sigh at the photo, debating on throwing it out, but ultimately I store it in my shirt pocket like the rest of them. I make eye contact with Davie as soon as the jeep starts up, taking us to our community. Tiredly I look out as we pass the main town center, a gardened landscape that feels all too fake compared to the world of nature just outside its door.

I turn my attention back to the jeep, finding Davie talking to me awkwardly. "I don't think that it's that hard to fall three trees, don't you? I survived a fall once, and I think that I would be fine if I fell again but I wouldn't be sure. You haven't had any accidents do you?"

"I've had one, but it wasn't work. I got a scar on my arm for it," I quietly say. I turn to the open windows of the jeep as we pull into my community. With the Jeep slowing down I can see us pulling up to our rows and rows of houses quickly. The jeep makes intermittent stops along each row of houses and lets 2 or so lumberjacks off at each stop. Davie waves goodbye as he jumps down to his warm family below him.

My stop is the third to last stop, as I've found out, if only because it's more covered in trees than the other rows and rows of houses. My mom's jeep has already been here about an hour ago, judging from the tire treads, so I assume that she's cooking dinner already. With a tired sigh, I take my helmet and move into the house past the cracking door and creaking boards. "Aster, your food's on the table if you want," Mom shouts into the foyer.

I wave a quick hello to her as I hang up my helmet. I grab one of the pieces of bread that she's set out for me before sliding out once more into the garden and rest in what my mother referred to as Calvin's hammock. I pull out my notebook and sigh, looking at the sketch of my proud father. He died several years ago, that much I know of. Blown to bits? Probable.

I trace over my father's well-worn face, hovering over his thick beard. He was an imposing man from what I remember, tan, muscular, a District hero as my mom always thought of him as. Speaking of...she comes out of the house with a change of clothes, a tray of food, and a blanket. Our communication has never been the best, but she seems to always know what I need when I need it.

Politely I begin to eat, not trying to make eye contact with her. I have never been the one to make contact with anyone, or make nice, especially when they give you things and expect you to like them. But I have to give her points for trying. I turn over in the hammock, trying to signal that I'd rather be alone, and she accepts the signal, wrapping me in the blanket before heading to bed herself.

As I look at the sketch of my father one last time I begin to dwell on the person closest to being a friend, Davie. We talked a lot more today, a lot more than I would have started with, but strangely, I'm somewhat comfortable with it. He's a nice boy, I care the most of him out of our squadron, and he is great to look at. Maybe we are more common than I thought.

I think a lot during the night. It's no exception as I look into the forest past several other homes. I can hear some families chatter about, cherishing their time together. I haven't been able to have that bond, but I'm not desiring much in that matters. Ever since dad's death-I always return to that- Mom tried to socialize with me, but for some reason, I don't see myself in great want for any of that. The households to either side of me look happy though, and I'm not sure if I can get that. Still, it would be nice to be happy with someone.

I sleep with my back to my house and look into the forest, treasuring tomorrow's day off when I can sketch in nature.

 _Wysperia Clearance, 31 years old, Head warden_

 _Reaping day, Capitol time 12:00_

As the middle most District begins its reaping I finish my crochet project, a rocket based off of Mr. Lesaunt's execution method, and shove it in my drawer. With a sigh I activate the television, letting it rise out of my desk and swinging it closer to me. I'm one of several given permission not to watch the reapings, but I suppose familial duties mean that I must support my ever loving fool of a brother. "That reminds me…" I mutter. I take out my planner and pencil in a quick visit to my niblings today, celebrating the Verdant Forest District, as it is their favorite career District.

Like every year before the camera swoops in on the row of victors on the stage. In order, dainty Flora Matthias, rough and tumble Pulitz Megal, respectful Chlore Ershat, Headmaster Joshua Strausson, energetic Avril Vorell, and loyal Merrion Rothsvy, the 6 living victors, appear on screen as the citizens have their eyes glued to the screen. All of them- including headmaster Joshua, will be going to the Capitol in celebration of the quell. The camera begins a pan over of the victor families before returning to the flamboyant escort.

"It's such a pleasure to be back in the forests of District 7, as I have missed my home away from home," Shakespeare Clearance, my 28-year-old doof of a brother, says in a proper voice. There's a brief reaction of a clapping audience but even I know that District 7 is like a pile of kindling just waiting to burn. I roll my eyes at the ungratefulness of the lumberjacks. They have an academy from us, and they still want to rebel.

"I just know you loved that video, but it is time for our main event. Let us start traditionally with Ms. Juniper Aspens. Dear, won't you please join us?"

There is light stirring in the girl's section, with most movement occurring in the 17-year-old section. A girl on the taller side is pushed out by some other moving people. There's a bit of hesitation on her side and Ms. Aspens has to be guided with one peacekeeper holding her arm. Further noises are made on the spectator side as a man falls to his knees, crying for a volunteer while his wife tries to hold him. There are no volunteers and the white haired girl looks out with a blank stare and almost foggy almond pale blue eyes.

"Would you like to say anything dear?" She tries to say a word but closes her eyes and tries to save face. "In that case, Let us welcome Mr. Aster Mallory as the male tribute."

Like Juniper before her, there's a bit of murmuring, but the silence is maintained. A tall boy stands out of the 17-year-old section and scratches his dark brown hair. He's really a bit of a looker, and walks to the stage with a sigh but stands strong on the stage. The microphone catches his sighs as he traces his lean arms. "Do we have any volunteers for this lovely man?" Like before, there are no volunteers, no surprise there. District 7 and the other middle careers don't have volunteers for the quells, due to the strange circumstances.

"Thank you, District 7 for yet another stellar reaping. Let us bring luck and cheer to the capitol as our tributes move. And may the odds be ever in their favor."

The reaping ends with brief text boxes of immediate betting odds. Juniper stands at a 45-1 betting odds while Aster has 15-1 betting odds. All in all, standard odds for both an untrained girl and a slightly muscled lumberjack

 _Aster Mallory, 17 years old, Artist_

 _Goodbyes_

I'm marched with the girl into the justice building, feeling pretty empty at that. I'm stopped in front of a dark amendoim door before being pushed inside, with my partner going into a similar room on the opposite side of the hall. I sit on the cozy couch and stare at the door, not expecting any visitors.

My mom walks in the room, already having been crying for a while, but she walks into the room standing mostly straight. "Did I do something wrong?" she asks genuinely. "Aster, I'm sorry."

The sadness in her eyes makes me feel better about bringing her into a hug. I sigh tiredly onto her fancy polo shirt as she cries slowly on my shoulder. "I could have been a better parent, I could have listened more, I could have helped you."

"Mom. Mom," I say, facing her. "Mom, I don't say this often, but I love you. It took me this long to realize it but I can't deny it anymore. Thank you for being there."

"I love you too Aster. Is there anything else you want to tell me? Aster? Please?"

"Mom, there's nothing serious, but," I hesitate, slowly tracing the scar I got all those years ago. "I need to tell you that I'm homosexual."

She laughs in relief, hugging me tightly. "I wouldn't have judged you for that, don't worry Aster, just come back to me. I want my son back."

"I will try my best mom," I say quietly as she rests on my shoulder. The rest of our goodbye is in silence before the peacekeeper gently lifts her off of me. I look at her reassuring but worried face and she disappears behind the light door.

I don't have time to recollect my thoughts before my second visitor is escorted into the room. "Hi," Davie says quietly, smiling awkwardly.

"Hey Davie," I reply, making a space for him to sit down. "Survived a reaping, so that's good for you."

"But-you didn't," he says bluntly. "I'm going to miss having you on the work team for a while. I hope you can make it back. I like seeing you every day. And I wanna have more dinners with you; to be frank."

"I don't know what it is about my mom's cooking, you've come over 10 times this year just for those meals. I don't think they're that special."

"They actually aren't, but it's just that I get to talk to you often. And your mom told me what happened in there. You might need this in the arena." With a small gesture, he takes off his necklace, holding it in his hands.

"I-I can't take this…" I bluntly say. "It's-It's yours! Your family gave it to you, didn't they? It's yours!"

"Yeah, I knew it was a long shot anyways. Just, don't forget about me in the arena, don't forget about District 7 either. You'll try your hardest to come back, won't you?"

He holds out his hand for a handshake with a sheepish but teary smile and waits expectantly. I don't want to diffuse the situation, and I will miss Davie, and maybe I will find peace after the arena. I shake his hand as he departs with his head held high.

 _Juniper Aspens, 17 years old, Daydreamer_

 _Goodbyes_

The peacekeepers begin talking to one another as they take me to the room. I can see their lips moving but I can't hear anything. I wanna hear them but my parents say that hearing detracts from my imagination. I begin to breathe heavily as we all reach a hallway with two doors on opposite sides of a hallway.

I need to breathe. I need to breathe. I need to breathe. I need to open my eyes.

The room I'm in is fancy, like a mystery library, with a print of books along all four sides except for the side with the door. There's a comfy chair, like a psychiatrist chair, I lay down on it, looking at the ceiling. It's blue with pretty red clouds, like a dragon's fire.

The door bursts open like a jail break. Mom, Dad, and Lily all rush into the room, with my dad hugging me tightly. He and mom seem to be crying loudly and Lily sits close to the entrance. "There...THERE SHOULD HAVE BEEN A VOLUNTEER!" Dad shouts angrily. He punches the soft chair, slowly crying. Already taller than my father I curl myself over him, letting him weep into my dress. It doesn't take long for him to get his composure back, but he still cries. "Your mom and I agreed…"

"Mom?"

"Juniper, we want you back home. If you ever feel lost," she trails off. I look into her foggy brown eyes as she slowly removes her ring. I always liked looking at it but I've never been able to hold it. She places it on my pinky finger. "If you're lost, remember your destination."

"T-Thank you, mom…" I stutter. She gives me a side hug and curls my hair, humming a sweet song. There's a knock on the door and my parents have to leave.

"Don't forget, you have some skills from the academy, use them," My mom says, choking up. I let Lily's fur run under me one last time and they leave through the light wooden portal.

It takes a couple of minutes after them for the next guest to show up, during which I spend the time fiddling with my new token. It's a flat ring so it won't be rejected and won't do much damage at least that's what the trainers once said when I attended class. The door opens and I shoot up. "Huh?"

"Let's make this quick," Ash Elmswood says in a rushed voice. "I'm really sorry about the way that Kara has been treating you and I'm sorry for not being able to stand up but she and I go back as friends and even then that isn't any excuse for me to have treated you like that."

"What?"

"Juniper, you're smarter than Kara says. You're a great girl, you're smart, you can get out of any situation, use that. I'm sorry we couldn't have been friends, I liked playing with you when you were younger but then you got weird."

"Weird?"

"That's what we all said. I'm sorry for bullying so I understand it if you don't want to forgive me. Prove me and Kara wrong." Just as quickly as he entered, just as quickly as he apologized, just as quickly as he explained, he leaves. I don't get it. I think a lot, but I just can't seem to get it. Maybe-

The door opens again and the peacekeepers come my way, telling me to get walking. I fearfully follow them like a prisoner. No I am one, a prisoner going to the dungeon of a mighty castle.

* * *

 **Hey guys, Hopps here**

 **I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Juniper Aspens belongs to HungerGamesTribute12 and Aster Mallory belongs to CelticGames4. Thank you so much for these characters, and I hope I did them justice. Feel free to criticize in a review and/or in a PM. If the portrayal is off, I'll do them more justice next chapter, but if it's something urgent I'll do my best to fix the characters. This is how long I intend the reapings to be, and I hope you guys enjoy the format for this, since we'll be seeing it 12 more times. We start things off on a lucky number for an unlucky day for these 2 tributes.**

 **Sponsor Questions**

 **1\. Where is Lily while she chases a bird? (4 points)**

 **2\. Where does Aster rest for the last part of his initial perspective? (4 points)**

 **3\. What is Wysperia's art project? (2 points)**

 **Bonus: What are the odds for both Juniper and Aster? (1 point per answer)**

 **Answer these questions for sponsor points that will come into play come the arena but participation is optional, and you may gift to other tributes when the time comes**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	7. Reaping, Buzzing Factories

_**Reaping: Buzzing Factories**_

 _Zippina Cayen, 16 years old, Empath_

 _1.75 weeks before Reaping_

Even with my workbook in front of me I still stare out at the window, twirling the pencil in my hand as I formulate a plan for the day. The whirs of the victor's park festival are just outside my window and I so desire to go, but school is 'important.' As I sigh I hear Mr. Lacletts calling back to me, snapping me back to attention. "Unless you have something better to do, can you please tell us the formula for figuring out how fast a cutting tool would need to spin for steel?"

I stare back at Mr. Lacletts as he waits patiently. A brief glance at the clock says that it''s 2:45, just 5 more minutes of the third to last class before the reaping. "Hmm…" I think aloud, looking back on my page. "Cutting speed times 12 then divided by the product of the diameter and pi?"

"I'm glad you had that answer Ms. Cayen, but seeing as we are 90% of the way through this course's curriculum then I would have thought that you would have had that answer memorized. Moving on, for tonight, I just want you all to draw a schematic of a 0-1 od micrometer. And that would be all. Class dismissed."

I sloppily shove my books and work tools into my bag and run out into the hallways, opening my locker after a quick check that all of my stuff will remain. Racing out of the school, I catch up with two of my friends, really my two best friends. "Took you a while Zippy, have a great nap?"

"Shut it Genera," I snarl, mockingly biting the air. "Anyways, District 3's victor park has that ride test nowl. They have a larger ferris wheel this time, and from what I saw it's a and I know you just love getting high."

"Sounds great, I'll go, my parents won't mind if I turn up 2 hours late. And It's just a 3 minute walk," Isaak chuckles. "Not like school actually matters or anything. Just don't get blown up and we're all living the high life."

"Don't tell me that I'm hearing that my little sister is going to slack off," someone says as they place a strong hand on my shoulder. "Zippina Cayen I know that your grades are slacking."

"Like hell you do," I chuckle, glancing at the voice. My twin brother Atom, of whom is 7 minutes older, still has his books in hand and jacket worn over his simple polo like the tryhard he is. "There's a time and place for everything, but after school means that school is done for the day. Come on, the ride testing for victor's village is this week. Let's go."

"I'm not sure you're even tall enough to go on the rides my dear sis. And our parents need us to test their tools."

"Hey! The height limit for the good rides are just 50 inches, if anything you're the one that's too tall for those kinds of rides. And you can do what you want, you academic freak."

"Slacker," he says teasingly. With a roll of his eyes he heads again on his journey to our home.

"Okay then, let's head over with the-Genera…." I follow Genera's distant gaze and land on my brother's ass. I jump up to hit her in the head and try to knock some sense into her. "Let's go, what is it about my borther that has the girls staring?"

"You'd stare too if he wasn't your brother. I mean, he's six feet, taller than most of the boys in our class, toned arms, mysteriously broods, he's everyone's dream man, besides yours of course. Isn't that-" she leans in and imitates my thumping heart -son of Mayor Watton, Forden Wattons? With his greased back black hair, legendary six pack, toned calves, all at a mighty 6 feet?"

"Yeah Yeah, shut up, and let's go to the fair," Isaak jumps in. "And besides, aren't your parents going to be there?"

"Damn, forgot about that. They did say they need some dummies to test out their inventions, come on, we need to get to them stat. " Grabbing both of my friends by their hands, I lug them away from the main entry way of the school to victor's park. "And maybe Forden will be there," I add in a small voice.

Although every District has a Victor's park, from what I see on television, they are all entirely different. District 2 has their park on mountains, District 4's park is on a cliff overlooking a sea, District 7 is in a forested alcove, and our park is the middle of a smoggy center. I guess it's better than District 12's situation...they've had their park as a black market for over 2 generations, then it got burned down, and now it's right next to the train tracks.

Scanning the park quickly, I see my parents as they stand by the main entrance, holding the best spot as usual. They wave the three of us over and allow us to jump in front of a larger line. "You just missed the mayor and his family, they really liked the technology," my father, a man on the taller side of District 3 standards says.

"We've been successful, and we have gotten a stack of suggestions upon what to do right now. You kids want to test out our interactive chairs? They're going into a ride for one of the arenas," Mom asks. My friends eagerly nod and Mom's beaming smile slowly simmers down as she buckles my friends in. "Not you Zippy, at least not there. WE have to have a height limit, but we have a chair for smaller folks like you and me."

Mom points to an undersized version of the supposed adult chair with all of the same features, just at a smaller scale. Being 4' 9", I'm easily towered by most of my peers, so it's understandable that my mom wants a smaller scale for girls like me. I'm strapped in steadily with the chair and grip on the handles as the fans whir just behind my head. It's a thrilling experience really, but the end of the simulation jolts me and my friends out of the chair.

I regain my balance by holding onto Isaak's shoulder as we walk away, thanking my parents just as a trio of capitol investors stride confidently up to their booth. There are about 2 dozen more booths to explore, but due to the nagging voice in my head, I can only visit a fourth of them today if I want to finish that schematic in time. "Hey…" Genera says, nudging me.

I look up at her and follow her pointed glance to a sopping wet Forden Watton. I jump up and hit her upside the head once more, laughing as I drag the two of them to the food creation booth. It's a fun day, and with the fair being here for 2 more days, I think that I wouldn't be wrong in saying that we can afford to ditch a couple of more days.

* * *

 _Fabian Drason, 16 years old, Pep Rallyer_

 _One Week before the reaping_

"And that's the end of the meeting, thanks for coming, and let's give it everything we got for these next weeks!" Cogend Cullard's voice sounds through the open room as we close off the club meeting with our signature cheer. I pick up my small backpack off of the ground to shove my club pamphlet in. In three days we're going to have an open potluck, and no one is going to bring much, but we'll have sweets for a fun and quick meal.

"Fab!" I turn around, seeing Cassidy Iros walking up to me. "Thanks for making it as usual. You'll get first pick at the potluck if you want, since you're the most punctual of our clubmates. It's fun having you around, and we hope you show up."

"N-No worries, I'll be there, but I can't bring anything."

"Oh no problem, you'll just get one of the first picks, just not the first, I hope you understand."

"Y-yeah, I understand. I've got to go, see you next time." She walks away while I grab my fallen pencil and hastily rush out the door. I don't know if she's heard it-it didn't seem like she did, but that stutter was there. It's with every girl, I don't really know why…

The hallways are beginning to empty with the end of most of the clubs. Being in a richer part of one of the richer districts means that our schools can have clubs like these. As I walk out of the school I join my best friend as she sits on a bench under an alcove. "So, how are things?" I ask, sliding my books under the bench.

"Grades slipping from an 89 to an 86, but I think that if I get my extra credit all in tomorrow I'll scrape by with a 90% in all my classes. Map making club is going by well, but we're losing funds, so there's going to have to be a fundraiser, though I doubt anyone else out of this school would be willing to chip in, in other words, another day at school Five of Seven," she laughs. "I'm just about to head home, wanna come?"

"We are right near each other, you're just a couple of floors below. I'll head over. It's not that far of a walk from here either."

With her standing at 5'4", I stand somewhat taller than her by an inch, which is about average in the District. As I grab my bags I fix my hair as a large gust of wind picks up, almost knocking me off balance. "Comme on Pretty Boy, your hair isn't that important."

With a huff I stride up to her, currently making our ways down the main entrance to the school and into the street. There are a series of shops that we choose to stop by, but I have to pull her away as she tries to enter a shop. "Don't expect any employee discounts from your friend when he has to work the next day."

"But the girl wants her best friend to just let her into the shop. The girl can pay but her friend just needs to act fabulous as he always does to distract the lady at the register."

"Yet the fabulous friend knows that his friend knows that he can't talk to girls for the life of him...no matter how fabulous he may be."

Successfuly I ward her away from my line of temporary work and by the time she wants to turn back a delivery truck has blocked her way. "Curse you you stupid Fabulous Demon," she says in joking despair.

"Okay, wrong name, Calico. It's Fabian Drason, not Fabulous Demon, but I am fabulous, don'y you ever deny it." We share a laugh as we continue down the street and pass by the main factory that just spills out with workers. Out of the corner of my eye I see someone walking up to us. Defensively I push Calico behind me and continue walking even as he continues to walk up to us.

"Hey, what's the big deal? You're past my parent's factory, the least you could have done is say hi," Jordan Paisley shouts from next to us. "Don't see why you're ditching me Calico, why are you dealing with a scrub like him?"

"Just walk faster Fab, I'll join you soon," Calico says dismayed.

I continue to walk faster, with Calico matching my speed, but it's evident that she's going to tire soon. I try my best to tune out Jordan's insults to me and catcalls to Calico before the vein in my head begins to pop. "SHUT UP!" I shout, fed up.

Jordan pushes Calico away slightly and begins to face me. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Just back off, we aren't interested in talking, so back off."

"really? I can kick your ass, so you better back off and leave me with my dame unless some faggot like you would want to do it."

"Fuck off, we aren't bothering you, nor would we want to ever. Take a hint." I close my eyes to get some of the red spots to disappear only to feel his heavy breathing in my face. Without opening my eyes I take Calico's wrist and storm away in a huff, eventually breaking out into a run that takes both of us to our housing block.

I look at CAlico and immediately envelope her into a hug, relieved that I prevented another incident like last year's from happening. "Calico, he didn't touch you, did he?"

"No, no, no," she mutters. "Not like last time. I think that's enough for today. Let's just go home. I'll see you up the stairs and depart from my floor…"

"Yeah, that sounds like a good plan." We climb the rest of the floors in silence, stopping as she reaches floor 6. As lucky as we are to attend school, neither Calico's family nor my family can afford to live in a building with an elevator. She looks down her crowded hallway as her mother looks over for her.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you then." She walks down the hall and greets her mother before sliding in. I turn to the ascending stairs and continue my climb to the ninth floor.

With the first room on the left side of the hallway from the stairs being my apartment, I'm grateful, considering that it is both a less of a walk down the seemingly infinite hallway, and one of the larger rooms in the apartment building. I walk into the small welcome room and kick off my shoes, wiping some sweat off of my cheeks as I also take off my lightly threaded jacket. I'm alerted to the smell of machinery and walk into the inventing room. "Hi Fab," mom says kindly, looking up from her sketch table.

"Now that you're here we can make dinner. Looks like your mom and I finished in time," Dad chimes in.

"Dinner sounds really good about now, no milk, as usual."

"Of course son."

* * *

 _Tranfera Mavon, Victor of Hunger Games 131, District 3 Female Mentor, 35 years old_

 _Reaping Day_

It takes an awful long time to get up from my plush filled bed. I spend more of my time staring at the underside of my thick wool blanket than staring at the ceiling, but even then I remain looking at the emptiness of the walls of my room.

Finally I stand up and begin to get dressed, today means that I have to be at the reaping by Capitol Time 11:00, which means that our reaping begins at 11:30, just for the convenience of slackers up at the capitol.

As I walk out of the hall I step into the other room, waking up the children I allow to sleep for a while. Traditionally, District 3 has been a homophobic District, the most intolerant of all 12 that I know of. "Hey guys," I whisper silently to wake them up. "It's reaping day. Come on."

Stirring comes from the bunk closest to the door and two boys, each about 18 stumble out half dressed and hastily put on their clothes. "Some Privacy please? And we stained the cloth again. We'll wash it when we come back, don't worry."

With a sigh I go about waking the other residents. A blond girl with almond shaped eyes collects her clothes from the floor already awake and goes about to wake up her girlfriend on the opposite side of the room. I move to the smallest bed, the one surrounded by toys as I wake up my young son, guiding him up and letting him put on his clothes. He's 12 years old and immensely nervous today so he puts on his clothes on a silence akin to his father.

"Look, you aren't going to be reaped. We did everything in our power to give you the best odds of survival."

"But….but they say if I like guys and girls then I'm going to be picked."

I curse silently, at 12 years old he's still more innocent than he should be. "Stop hanging out with those people. Anyways it's nonsense. Anyone can be picked and anyone can come out. Look, I know you're sound about your attraction to both, and don't worry. It will not determine if you or any of your friends in here gets picked. I promise."

He hugs me tightly. He's a very short boy but has his arms long enough to wrap around my shoulders. I walk to the couch, waking up my longtime boyfriend as he rests on the couch. Yeah, 15 years and we still haven't gotten married, but I could care less. My parents are already up with my sisters and cooking a hearty breakfast for the lot of us.

As we finish I rush the five children out the door as they run to get to the reaping, stopping to stand with my strong and silent boyfriend. He's naturally mute but his humorous personality really shines through. I cling onto his arms while we walk to the reaping, regretfully letting go as the rest of my family sits under the awning with the reaping going on. From the corner of my eye I can see a camera zooming over all of us victors. This year it's just me, Batteron Nectra of Hunger Games 112, and Tungsta Stly of Hunger games 92.

The propaganda film comes and goes like it does every year and our obnoxious escort, Illania Weathrettes, takes the mic from Mayer Watton. She grins a predator's grin at the weary children below, some of whom already are in tears. She smiles in particular to the 12 year olds, eveyone knows that she has a particular taste for the 12 and 13 year old tributes that occasionally get picked.

"Let's begin today with the boys. Let us pick out Mr. Fabian Drason and allow him to come to the stage." The boy, about average height in District 3, makes his way out of the 16 year old section as sighs of relief are heard from all around. He holds his head high and lets his handsome face grace the screen, already showing himself to be better than some other tributes I've had in the past years.

He stands on stage in silence, eyes closed and waiting. "Let us have him joined by Ms. Zippina Cayen. So if you would…" She gives way to the very tiny girl, only 4'9", as she makes her way to the stage. She forces the tears out of her eyes and stands on stage with the harsh lights beating down on her very pale skin. There are no words from either of them and Illania closes the ceremony off with all of them. Then it's back to business as the tributes are whisked away and the families line up. Hastily I'm shoved 2 odds from Batteron that he got from his contacts in the capitol-placing Zippina at 75-1 odds and Fabian at 64-1 odds, lower than average but workable. I go to briefly talk to my family before I'm unable to see them for the month.

* * *

 _Fabian Drason, 16 years old, Pep Rallyer_

 _Goodbyes_

Even as I keep my muscles stiff I obey the three peacekeepers who hold me and walk me back to the fabled goodbye rooms. The short girl, one of the shorter ones I've seen, is a bit more open about her resilience and wants to handle it herself, but the peacekeepers march with us all the way to the hallways and thrust us into the room. I open my eyes into the well kept room, obviously used only once a year, and take note of the intricacies. It's sad that this much wealth is used only for the annual ceremony of the Hunger Games, and the chair really is nice.

As I plop down I'm greeted with a bit of bounce and try my best to regain the balance. When I do I'm greeted by both of my parents. Mom has to be guided in on my father's arm and my father is struggling to wipe the tears away from his eyes. "Son…"

"Mom? Dad?" I ask. The tears well and I allow them to sit with me. They aren't the biggest fans of the Hunger Games but know how to keep their mouth shut. I'm not a fan, well less of a fan since I'm going into the quell. I run up to the two of them and hug them tightly, trying not to open my mouth.

"We haven't got you a token. It was so sudden and we didn't think it'd happen to you. You didn't take out any tesserae did you? Did you?" Mom gets desparate as she asks the question several times over.

"MOm, Mom no. It was just dumb rotten luck. Don't worry. I'll keep you guys in my thoughts, and you'll be fine working on inventing, right? Just move on, I'll take care of myself."

They nod regretfully and let me rest on their shoulders for a long while. I'm about to lull myself to sleep when the peacekeepers open the darkened hazel door and drag them out. I pass them a reassuring glance and they try to put on a smile before disappearing, hopefully for a time that won't be the last.

In the three minutes before my next guest comes in, I think that I'm alone, but of course my thoughts are quashed as Calico runs in with tears barreling down her face. "No...No it can't be…" she mutters. "By jove...Why? Why?"

I cry into her shoulder as I see her heartbroken face shatter into a million pieces. She's the closest one to me, and I want her to smile. I try telling her words but they're just mangled and drown in my throat. There's a mutual understanding between the two of us, and it says everything I want to and everything that she wanted to even with the silence. "Stay away from that path, stay clear of Jordan. I know what he did to you, and if I could be there I would. Just stay away, go to the authorities, even an arrogant asshole prick can't get away with that," I manage to choke out.

We sit in silence, remembering what he did the last year. "He won't touch me like that ever again," she says, eyes growing dark and steeled. "Stay safe. I want to see you home."

"Stay safe, I want to see you when I get back." She flashes a small smile in comfort and leaves, promising that she will. I can try my best to keep up that promise.

* * *

 _Zippina Cayen, 16 years old, Empath_

 _Goodbyes_

I am manhandled into the room by the three guards with my new District partner being shoved into the room opposite mine. I keep my balance and dust off my dark green dress, finding it a luxurious but daunting room. When I sit on the couch in an effort to find ease I turn to the door and hear it open.

Breathing heavily are my friends, my three good friends. "How?" Forden asks dumbfounded.

"Too much Tesserae? Not enough luck? Dumb hand?" I chuckle, pinching the bridge of my nose. We haven't gotten the time to hang out with Forden turning 18 but I'm glad he still considers me a friend. "Well this is stupid, Can't believe I'm crying my eyes out to three of the people I care about, one of whom I care deeply and the other two I do care deeply too just not enough."

"Yeah…" Forden chuckles. "Those idiots over there told me what you were thinking about. Just make it back and we can talk about it, I kind of have some things to worry about myself. I'm sorry about that."

"No, No, No it's no problem. I uhh...yeah. If I come back would we still be friends?"

"Yeah. Just don't worry about that and worry about getting out alive. I'll leave you with your friends. Keep them, I'll keep you in my thoughts."

"So will I." Quietly he leaves and I can't help but lightly smile. I turn to Isaak and Genera as they blush sheepishly. "I have many things to say, but thank you guys for being friends. Comfort Forden if I die, and thank you guys for being friends."

"It doesn't have to end like this," Isaak adamantly says. "We'll be rooting for you from District 3, though without any victors we'll be trying to get funds and send them through Mayor Watton. Just try your best."

"Make allies. They'll help, very few victors are made by being lone wolves," Genera says passionately. "And keep your thoughts to yourself though, that'll be imperative."

I nod in response, and they leave the room. My parents and Atom rush into the room and tell me to sit down. Obediently I do, waiting as they awkwardly twiddle their fingers. "I'll be doing my best to make it home," I say formally, trying to choke the tears down.

"Please…" Dad whispers silently. He's on the verge of tears and is trying to hold himself together for Atom and Mom.

"We know you Zippy," Mom speaks up. "We love you too, just keep fighting to reach us again, I don't know what we'd do without you."

"Maybe you'd use Atom as a test subject more than me, unless he's too wrapped up in his schoolwork."

Even through light chuckles Atom still has the strength to scold me. "Come on, please, this is serious. I know you know what happens in the Hunger Games 99% of the time. Just try to find a niche you're comfortable with and fill that out. Just try your best to remain low but make allies."

I nod my head as I listen to his rambling. "I'll try my best," is all that manages to come out of my mouth. Feeling a strong impulse I run over to Atom and hug him tightly. My parents join shortly after and promise to keep working so that I'll have something to return to. All too soon the goodbyes are interrupted.

I wave my family out the door as they back out, trying to remember my face, and with me trying to remember their faces.

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **I'm glad that I got this chapter out, so I hope you guys liked this chapter. From the land of high trees to a land of high smoke stacks, District 3 is miles apart, and I hope that I got these two correct. Fabian Drason was created by Reader Castellan (I took some liberties since I put him in a Different District) and Zippina Cayen was created by Juud108. If there are issues please let me know. Anyways the loose outline of the reapings is that it will be in 3 blocks with a career District, a semi career District, and 2 outlier Districts. Any guesses as to what the career District and the outlier District for this block will be? The characters should get about the same amount of word count per chapter, but the middle section is going to make the chapters either longer or shorter, so don't fret if a chapter seems long or short.**

 **Sponsor Questions:**

 **1\. What Schematic is Zippy supposed to make? (4 points)**

 **2\. Who closes off Fab's club's meeting? (4 points)**

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 **Who gives Tranfera the odds? How? (1 point per question)**

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 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	8. Reaping, Monumental Justices

_**Reaping: Monumental Justices**_

 _Desmond Pick, 18 years old, Gentleman_

 _3 weeks before the reaping_

Tight clamp on my sword, feet shoulder width apart, a quick glance at my opponent while sweeping my hair away, the routine flowing freely as I glance at the second priority volunteer. His preferred weapon is a war hammer, clunky and heavy, but deadly. He's made several kills with that thing, we all have, and I've made six. One a year.

We aren't supposed to make a kill in fights like this, despite the fact that we all could, we all have the means to. He charges first, holding the hammer between both hands and swinging it out. I dodge back but get a glancing blow to my stomach. If it weren't for the body armor the pain would be so much worse. I spin around to deflect the blow, hopefully catching my opponent off guard.

It's a strategy that's been used to great effect by our victors with several prolific kills made in that method. His arms are still reeling from the momentum of the initial swing and Dracorius has to step back, pulling with hard strength. I slam the hilt of my sword clumsily into his wrist and he drops the weapon. I hold the tip of the sword at his neck armor, applying pressure while he tries to break free. A well-placed punch to the head disarms him once more, and he falls. I fall shortly after, but the fight enough is able to mark me as the winner of this bout.

I hear a small sound of clapping and turn to the stands to see my sister, Dorothy, as she sits to take notes on the senior volunteers. I prop myself on my knee and stand up, offering a hand to Dracorius, which he bitterly takes. His bitterness is gone and the smiling trainee is back. "Thought I had you, even with a weapon you aren't good at," he says tiredly.

"Score, Seven victories out of 8 matches for Desmond Pick," my trainer says while writing it down, parroting it to a board for Headmistress Vindal. "Swap weapons."

Unlike my proficiency with the sword, I am clumsy when it comes to the heftier weapons that appear in the arena. War Hammers, sledge hammers, battle axes, and ancient gisarmes are my undoing. My discomfort is noticeable and Dracorius smirks as he's handed the lighter weapon. I hold out a shaky hand and he takes it, much more eaerly this time, and resume the fighting position.

Like before, Dracorius makes the first move, but I hold the handle in a defensive maneuver and deflect the sword as it bounces off. He must have foretold the move and such swings at my side. The blow is heavy, since he's used to the swing of much heavier weapons, and winds me temporarily. With my breath heavy I lurch forward and manage to deal a blow to his chest, sending him backward, but I can't follow up and what comes next is the sword to my legs. I fall to the ground gripping at my ribs, and Dracorius is known as the winner of this bout. I prop myself up with the hammer and shake his hands like I usually do. He has a much bigger smile when he lifts me up.

"Held out better than I thought you would," my trainer says. "Seven victories of 9 matches, but work on your strength. And we'll stop the weapons combat for you right here." I respectfully nod and shake hands with Dracorius Gladiolus. He's average height of trainees, six feet even, somewhat taller than me and bulkier, it was easy for a man of his stature to get second priority. "You are on hand to hand wrestling with the third priority of Males and fourth priority of the females. Report to gymnasium 8," my trainer continues robotically.

My sister tails my path as I leave to the gymnasium and I hold the door open for her, as I've been always taught. "I believe that your bouts were quite skilled. You handled the sledgehammer clumsily but had unmatched skill with the dagger and knives."

"Thank you Dot," I reply cordially. "Precision of language dictates that the weapon I used was not a sledgehammer but a war hammer, remember that."

"Of course brother." She hands me a water bottle that I gulp down and hand to her once I finish. At arrival to the eighth gymnasium, I hold the door open for both my sister and a giggling girl who smiles as she passes me by.

I have but 5 minutes to change into my fighting gear, so I strip off my weapon clothes and put on looser material, a simple grey tank top and a pair of dark black trousers. The tittering behind me lets me know that some girls are watching me. As usual I pay them no mind while I begin to stretch, jumping onto the mat at about the same time my opponent does.

I shake hands with the girl, 17 year old Paccia Oreden. She's five foot 8, about average height, and with taut muscles. Admittedly she looks quite good but I can't have thoughts like those cross through my mind. I focus, looking at my opponent dead in the eye as we assume a grappling position. "Best of luck," I whisper to her.

She nods back, and I allow her to make the first move. She wraps her arms around my neck and tries to push me to her ground. Paccia is a strong girl, well dveloped, and knows how to use her flexibility to her advantage. The squeaking of the mat below me means that she's trying to swing her legs up in an effort to lock my calves into place.

I push upward with my legs and down with my arms, sending her buckling to the floor. She turns over but I push down at her shoulders and swing her arm into a locked position. I let her escape my grasp in order to fix my position but almost pay the price several times over. Still, I hold her arm tightly behind her head and she can't break free. The victory, not flawless but passable, is given to me.

As usual, sister Dorothy is clapping and she is not alone. Her clique of girlfriends swoon as I standup, wiping my hair from my brow, and helping Paccia up to her feet. She smiles and shakes my hand. I'm called to the side by my trainer, allowing me to rest for precious seconds before my next skirmish. "Chivalry is valued out of combat, not in combat, Mr. Pick. We have you as the first priority due to the fact that you can overcome these. Please instill that in your head."

I nod in understanding and return to the mat, facing the third priority of Mr. Dominius Consus. It's a typical day, but like always, I excel.

 _Antoinette Vermur, 18 years old, Orphan_

 _2.5 weeks before reaping_

"Thank you for today. I saw you at your best, and you surpassed your usual expectations," my trainer, one of many academy rejects, says as she looks over my training videos and notes for today. "It is now 10:30 P.M. at night, so you are welcome to take your leisure and nightly rest."

"Thank you," I say respectfully, turning out the door to the auditorium with my training bag in hand. A map of the academy is to my left immediately as I leave the auditorium. I look over it with my hands tracing over the well made but simple artistry dotting the wall. Becoming one of 5 priority volunteers mean that I am able to reside in the berths closest to this auditorium.

Even if I've memorized the path, it's always an instinct to run over the map. On leisure time, I give myself until 11:30 to wander around and there are very few others to distract me. With most of the training academy thinning of its trainees besides the most devoted, there's ample enough room for me to train on my leisure.

I move to a smaller room where trainees are taught to climb. Though the ceiling is high the floor space is lacking, meaning that when the three rooms of this kind only have a capacity for 10 or so people. "Hello?" I ask, looking to see if anyone is in the room.

"Yeah?" At the sound of my voice, a girl steps out from a nook in the cranny. "Nice night, isn't it An?"

"Didn't think you'd be up, curfew should have been here about 30 minutes ago. The matron is going to tear you a new one."

"I have an agreement that I can stay here for the remainder of time until the reaping. How's training going, Ms. Third Priority?"

"Exhausting, just want to climb really. I could have been a higher priority but I'm not complaining. Third out of 100 is not the worst, it's great." I move to the lockers by the climbing wall and grab the belay and ropes delegated to the trainees. "Let's just climb for a while, I look forward to this every day."

"Speed racing?" I nod enthusiastically and the 15 year old eagerly matches my grin. "Let's do it then."

She and I attach the ropes to each other in perfect synchronicity and assume starting positions. It's not often climbing is an essential part of the arena but when it is, the experience here can be enough to save us all. I nod my head at Quartz and we begin the race. She's a speedy teen and barely manages to out muscle me in the race to the top and hits the brass bell quicker than I can. I hold out my hand for a high five and she takes it. "So who is the first volunteer again? That's not really publicized among us youngsters."

"Juliet Stonnel," I reply out of breath. She winces as she recalls the six foot tall and muscular volunteer who's capable of tearing out her opponent's throat with her bare hands. "I know. Puts me into perspective, Valda isn't taking it too kindly that I made a priority and she didn't."

"I wonder how she's doing right now."

"From what I can tell, she's doing good. She'll be a ruthless peacekeeper captain." My thoughts drift to my old friend, of whom I'm officially alienate from as of 5 months ago, about the time of the quell announcement. The conversation continues about the good times the three of us have had but I cut it off, saying that I need to get more training in. "I'll see you in a bit."

"I hope I can say the same too."

We climb down the rock wall with several laughs before she turns to her dormitory for the night. I decide to go the opposite direction into a smaller room devoted for identifying plants. There are 5 stations of plant matching and the walls are adorned with shelves of various types of wild plants that I've definitely seen in many arenas. The clock on the wall indicates a time of 10:50, meaning that I've been rock climbing for about 20 minutes. "Funny seeing you here," someone speaks up.

I look around the room to see a girl with long brown hair over her eyes as she continues her practice on a machine, getting about 89%, a passing rate. "The feeling is mutual, Valda," I say quietly.

"What are you doing here? Doesn't a priority volunteer need rest?" she says harshly. With a sigh I move to the machine next to her, trying to ignore her sneers. "I suppose I'll get the verbal lashing of a lifetime from the matron."

I start up the machine and begin to sort out the effects of 25 plants to their names and habitats while she chortles. I finish after 6 arduous minutes and find my score to be...51%. Frustrated I turn to my former friend as she catches her breath. She's a bit taller than me and looks stronger, but has always been a klutz. "Looks like the third priority needs to prioritize a bit more on their survival skills. Good luck."

She strides out of the training room with a confident swagger, from the looks of it her mood significantly brightened from our brief interaction. I sigh as I glance at my score resetting and the playfield beginning to return to its default position. I finish it one more time, barely improving my score to a 53%, and turn off the machine.

"I can do this," I mutter to myself. even as I wander the almost deserted halls I still feel judged. Photos of our 26 victors line the halls. In spite of us having never won a quarter quell, the District's ruthlessness proves time and time over and over. It's a lot for all 10 priority volunteers have to take in. A lot of pressure.

I turn into my dormitory quietly and try to remain silent as I traipse around my bunkmates' messes over the floors. I clamber into my bunk and slide my hand under the pillow cases to find my notebook. It's a small thing, tattered and worn after all of these years, but it's been a steadfast companion ever since entering the orphanage.

Poetry, artistry, thoughts, even the odd lyric or two makes its way into the book no matter my mood. With a light smile I open my notebook and trace the photo of my lost parents. My identification and reciept from paying for my first specialized classes are taped to the cover just like my family photo. I haven't had to pay ever since Valda and I were chosen for the elite group of 100 girls to be future tributes.

It's going to be a hard year, but I'll prove myself...somehow.

 _Jupiter Iode, 42 years old, Trophy husband_

 _Reaping Day_

"And a toast, to the beginning of the reapings of Panem's best District!" I shout loudly to my group of frat mates. My personal favorite avox, a young lad that I share with Hera for the start of the weekend, makes his way in his transparent clothing carrying a large tray of various drinks. The toasting begins after the text for District 2 shows on screen and my lovely wife's voice is unfortunately silenced.

I love the camera work about District 2, the mountains compliment the sturdy force of the noble volunteers and trainees all around as the ceremony begins. One of 3 triplets, Zelphineas Roxetts, stands on stage looking regal as the film begins. It continues to play as the camera goes over the metric fuckton of victors District 2 has. Merit of the 87th, Corbin of the 102nd, Marcellus of the 106th, Sheer of the 105th, Nervo and Corazon of the 123rd and 124th, Terrex of the 130th, Kyrenia of the 133rd, Shale of the 140th, and last year's victor, Bandit.

10 victors alive and kicking, that's enough to warrant another toast as the propaganda film ends. It's instigated by my best friend, Fulvinus Fulvinus. I drink heartily, whatever weight I gain is replaced by the abs my wife loves in a matter of seconds. The massive television now zooms into the crowd of waiting volunteers.

I'm not smart, but I do know that there are 5 priority volunteers of each gender, and if one of them is picked then no one can volunteer for them, and that they have a hierarchy of volunteering that's usually upheld. Unlike the pretty demons in District 1 and the squabblers in District 4, the chosen volunteer has the decency to go through the ceremony.

Zelphineas picks out a name for Kerr Bullard, a 13 year old who walks to the stage a bit nervous but already reassured by the volunteers in the back. When Zel asks for volunteers a loud voice rings out and the volunteer boldly steps out after greeting the other priority volunteers with regard. As he takes to the stage he bends over and kisses Zelphineas' hand. "Well you sure know how to treat a lady," Zel states in a flourished tone.

"A gentleman does what a gentleman does. And to introduce myself, I am Desmond Pick, truly honored to be graced by an amazing presence from a woman as yourself." Zelphineas titters as I raise a toast to an unorthodox man. He;s a bit shorter and skinnier, but it hasn't stopped victors like the late Striker from excelling. Though he is handsomely tanned.

"Now, let us call a lovely young lady to join us. May Antoinette Vermur please make her way to the stage?"

There's some murmuring from the 5 chosen volunteers as one of their own steps out into the aisleway. She's confused at first but walks to stage confidently and proudly with a relaxed appearance on her face. "Ah, Ms. Vermur, one of the chosen. I suppose we do not need any volunteers for you then."

"That would appear to be the case. I'll bring honor to my district either way." Instantly she's a favorite among two of my friends, a couple named Killius and Vinnia. And Antoinette is definitely gorgeous enough to be a success with tanned skin just like Desmond that compliments her staunch black hair. She stands at about the same height as her district partner, and looks strong as usual.

"Ladies and gentlemen of District 2, here are your tributes!" Raucous applause comes from across the town square and my room as the avox makes his way around the room. Already betting odds pin Desmond at 4-1 odds and Antoinette with 5-1 odds. I raise my glass and gulp it down immediately to celebrate this good year.

 _Antoinette Vermur, 18 years old, Orphan_

 _Goodbyes_

It looks like my chance has come this year. Walking through the halls of the justice building is all too familiar, considering I have seen off several volunteers in my time as a trainee. First take a right, then a left, then continue past the 3 main peacekeeping offices in order to reach two doors. The boy and girl for the year have randomized rooms, and this time I am cast intothe room closer to the east.

Even after being here about 4 times, the sheer grandness of the room is daunting. I involuntarily move to a window, gazing at the sun tinted mountains just out of reach and actually manage to find the natural river where the trainees occasionally take us. The windowsill is coated in a beautifully engraved gold leaf that pops out with the contour of the world.

"I suppose I have to congratulate you," I hear Valda say. To my surprise when I turn she is smiling, contrary to her demeanor.

"I guess I'd have to say thank you, but it was really random luck."

She wears a warmer smile on her face than I've seen in the weeks past. I gesture for her to take a seat and she gingerly sits on the plush velvet. "I guess I have to apologize for my demeanor. I'll just want to let you know that though I am jealous, I will be rooting for you."

"Thank you, old friend," I reply warmly. She holds out a hand for a handshake. I go to take it but she buries her nose in her elbow, just like old times. I laugh as she does and we accomplish a normal handshake before she leaves.

"Make it back, old friend, I'll support you." She leaves out the door with her head turned back and raise. Yeah, I guess Valda and I are still friends.

"So that was a stroke of luck!" I hear Quartz say excitedly as she makes her way in next. "I know you'll kick ass and make it back. Just make it extra special for District 13."

"I'll prove the strength of District 2 over and over by quashing those rebellious bugs!" IT's easy to match the energy of my younger friend and she's just as excited as I am for the Hunger Games. "I'll try my best not to die, but uhh, if I do, don't give okay?"

Immediately she sobers up, the reality of the situation going in that I am a reaped District 2 girl facing 26 tributes. "I won't give up if you die. Just don't give up whatever happens in that arena. We don't know what is in store, but hopefully you'll pull through."

"I'll prove it to everyone that I can. Just do what you do and don't piss off the matron." She hugs me abruptly, shocking considering that she's been intently training for quite a while. "I'll try my best to get back. Just keep fighting and keep an eye on Valda."

"Understood," she says briefly before sliding on a bracelet on my wrist.

"Thanks," I whisper.

A peacekeeper knocks on the doorframe and guides her through the hallway. I can barely hear her wish of good luck before she disappears, out of sight and out of mind. I look out in the mountains that cradled my old home.

"I'll do it," I say quietly, standing up as the peacekeepers make me leave.

 _Desmond Pick, 18 years old, Gentleman_

 _Goodbyes_

I'm guided by a steady hand past the maze of corridors meant to disillusion the tributes into a finely kept room, obviously finely kept considering the very room is used only once a year. I take this moment to take it all in, fascinated by the relative luxury of the glimmering chandelier above and the pristinely kept bookcases around the halls.

As District 2 is a mountainous district, the Justice building, and surrounding town square overlook one of the more beautiful skylines. At points, I swear I can see the jewels of the capitol and the power they radiate. But no bother, the power is of the color, and the Capitol would still stand tall and true behind it.

With someone knocking at my door I leave from the window and open the door gently, finding my family at the door. "It is nice to see you guys."

"Still as formal as we taught you," my father, a bespectacled man with strength from the mines and vocabulary of a librarian, says as he hugs me tightly. "Sorry for the informality, but let us tell you, we are all proud of you."

"You've only made us prouder and prouder, despite what training may have put you through," my mom says. She's a bit sloppier than my father and has her name tag from her line as a receptionist with her name- Portia Lucina Pick, displayed clearly. "You did what I couldn't, thank you."

She was a priority volunteer, the 3rd in line, and didn't have her chance. "Thank you mother. I can only hope that I serve to make the three of you even prouder," I say boldly. I turn to my family and see tears of joy in their eyes.

"Son, we're just wanting that you make it back. We appreciate your strength, but it's a quarter quell. Put up a good fight and try to make it back, but don't lose yourself. We aren't District 4, so come back yourself, and come back a victor."

"Kill if necessary. I know that's redundant but don't torture. The capitol is looking for a good boy to make it home, not a maniac. And if you die...that's a possibility I'm sure you know of...die honorably," Mom states through tears. "Just do your absolute best. Make your presence known."

"You've made us all proud. I'll follow in your footsteps," Dorothy says.

"Dorothy, Dot, just find your own calling. You don't have to be like me, but if training is what you want, then do it. Wherever I am, I'll be proud of you. If I'm in the mythical peaks, or a victor, I'll keep in touch somehow."

I look at a clock and see that the hour is mainly gone. "I hope yo see you guys again, and thank you for being a great family," I say clearly.

"Thank you too," dad says in a more formal tone, hugging me first before letting my mother and Dot hug me. When they leave I feel a twang of guilt in my chest...no. I have to force it down, ignore the obvious but I can make it back.

Yes, I can make it back, I just need to focus.

I need to remember them. I need to focus.

* * *

 **Hey guys, Hopps here**

 **I've been working on this chapter for a while and I hope you like it. Desmond and Antoinette were both great characters that I loved to think about but I'm not sure if they're portrayed correctly. If the author of Desmond, goldie031 or Antoinette's author of EllaRoseEverdeen would like to criticize, feel free and I'll definitely try to fix it. I am willing to make changes. And to clarify, all odd Districts will start with the female perspective while all the even districts will begin with the male perspective.**

 **Sponsor Questions:**

 **1\. What is Desmond's weapon combat at the end of his session? (4 points)**

 **2\. How long did Antoinette rock climb? (4 points)**

 **3\. Who is Jupiter Iode's best friend? (2 points)**

 **Bonus: What does Valda do to confirm that she and Antoinette are friends again?**

 **Anyway,s I hope you liked this chapter, and let's see how those charts would go (optional of course)**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**

 **p.s. Going to be tallying the results of the sponsor points for a while as I miscalculated, so keep track for yourself and we'll confer after all the reapings.**


	9. Reaping, Crowded Streets

_**Reaping: Crowded Streets**_

 _Adam Cufole, 17 years old, Bouncer_

 _6 days before Reaping_

"Stay safe out there," Dad says as Derrick and I walk out of the house. We hear him slump on the couch just before we close the door. Taking great care not to knock over our dad's empty beer bottles we traipse around the hallway and head into the elevator.

"Looking a bit sleepy, Derrick," I say as I see my brother resting his head on the wall.

"The elevator is the last place of peace and quiet i can get, let me rest my head."

I chuckle at his retort and wait patiently as the elevator goes down the 13 floors. Being in District 6, we have very little land, so we are all gathered in skyscrapers that reach up to 25 floors. The elevator only goes from floor 5 to floor 20. We reach floor five and swap places with a half dozen workers finishing their shifts. The other 5 floors are kept clean and pristine, the ones used for capitol photography.

Already my feet begin to ache like they have been for the past year and a half making the trek every other day to the nightclub. "So are you going to quit sometime soon?" I ask Derrick as we leave the apartment building.

"I got a place in one of the higher up classes, hopefully, I can quit soon, but we need the money, and the banks are iffy in this District," Derrick explains. "Besides, I'm not going to leave you alone unless you want to."

"No, no, I really wouldn't want you to leave. Just leave when you want to, I think I can manage on my own. I'm not going to go anywhere anytime soon, hopefully, Mr. Orrend finds me a good worker and promotes me."

"Hey, you are one. It's just that he's too busy screwing his wife on their piles of cash to give you any more money." I laugh with him as we dodge the sketchy streets and duck into one of the more popular alleyways, looking at the Rusty Chopshop's gaudy neon lights just as they flicker on.

By the position of the shadows, I'd justify that it's only about 7:30, leaving more room to enter the nightclub. The day hours are dwindling and already some workers are converting the regal site into a wide and flashy dance space. Derrick's perch at the Dj's station is high up and already almost set up. Derrick leaves my side to begin the sound check while I move to the bar for a quick bite of breakfast, delivered from the diner next door.

As I'm eating I feel a hand clamp on my shoulder. "Bug off, we aren't open for another hour and a half," I derisively say.

"Excuse me for wanting to get ahead in line. Have you seen those people out there?" A familiar and friendly voice says.

"Get in line Garry. Or at least pay for some food," I reply with a laugh. "Haven't seen you in a while. How's work going Garry?"

I pull out a bar seat for my friend as he scratches his bicep. "Couple of fights with the delinquents, you know. I'm not working, in school."

"Slacker."

"Says the person twirling around a piece of bacon instead of cleaning up his workspace."

"Do you want to take this outside? I can kick you out just like I did every day several weeks ago," I snap back.

"With what? Those noodle arms?"

"These noodle arms can kick your ass any day. And they have." He senses a threat and leans forward on the chair with his eyes narrowed. It's almost comedic, considering he's 5' 8" to my 5'11 and he's still in his pampered clothing while my uniform reveals my surprisingly toned arms. The tension diffuses as he nabs the piece of bacon off of my hands and pets my face with it.

"I just hope I'm allowed to enter this establishment, especially after my friend allowed me in after kicking me out."

"Keep up your actions and I'll kick you out before we're open. Now get out and get in line…" I say through gritted teeth. "I'll see you in an hour...and give me back that bacon…"

"Sheesh, touchy…" he grumbles before leaving relatively peacefully. The rest of my meal is mercifully undisturbed and when I finish I still have about 15 minutes before I'm due to get on shift. With a heavy shuffle of my feet I trudge to the bathroom, taking care of my business before standing at my perch just outside the main entrance.

As the streetcars pass, the sun slowly sinks in the sky, and the line slowly grows larger behind Garry. I get the signal behind me to open up. It's a simple routine in which I pull out the velvet rope from the storage box just beside the door and bring out my clipboard. The small clock in the storage box signifies a start of service but 2 mere minutes ago. Begrudgingly, I let Garry and his sister in after he prods me to no avail. "Just get in before I change my mind. Give me your names."

"Garry Routers and Cynther Routers. Aka your best customers."

"That's subjective. Anymore quips like that and I'll kick you out in a heartbeat, so enjoy yourself before I change my mind."

They walk in the nightclub laughing all the way into the crowded and loud sounds of the night. The line for Rusty Chopshop tends to run with a 3 hour wait time at most and it looks like the line is getting about half that. Slowly I make my way through the night, writing down names, breaking up fights, kicking people out. It's a very dull day. I don't try to make conversation, as it holds up the line.

Occasionally I catch a line jumper, about 5 per shift. They're usually junkies chasing after the bright lights. "HEY!" I shout after a particularly resistant one. In the most action, I've gotten from the shift, I chase him into the nightclub and forcibly remove him. The junkie is caught off guard by my strength, but being a junkie he can't do much to fight back. I throw him in the street and he disappears into the night.

About an hour after I let the last person in, Derrick walks out and clamps his hand on my shoulder. "Payday got your paycheck with me," he says tiredly. Our shift has ended, so the trek down the smog laden streets becomes yet another long one. "Think Dad's passed out still?'

"Wouldn't surprise me. Beer, Alcohol, wine, I just hope that he changes his diet with some champagne tonight," I joke, smiling but stifling a yawn. We have just arrived at our apartment and begin to climb the initial 5 stories before the elevator to floor 18 comes. Silently we slide in, counting the windows that pass, and slink out into the hallway, meandering.

It's a dull day, no doubt about it.

 _Janine Midnight, 14 years old, Sk8er_

 _9 days before reaping_

Breathing heavily I glance to the side at my equally tired rival. He flashes a cocky smirk and shakes my hand calmly, not at all perturbed at losing to me. We look behind us at the rest of our squad, amused at how they struggle to catch up. I get out some knots in my neck while the others join me and Holos on the steps, skateboards, and rollerblades in hand. "Hey!"

Two boys in the back stop their fighting and playfully punch each other to walk up to me and Holos. "Sorry Janine," both Jovar and Timmie reply back. I roll my eyes as they continue their argument as Rohn separates them, telling them to bicker it out on some table.

"We all make it?" Jet asks, picking at his fingernails.

"Looks like it," I reply, glancing out at our squad of 16. "Where to boys?" I ask, picking up my board again.

"Bakery? I'm kind of hungry," Robing says as he adjusts his knee pads.

"Hungry? That's supposed to be my job," Gourdel jokes. With a sigh we all turn to him, a mutual jealousy held due to his richer upbringing. "Sorry, I'll pay for the food. But if you guys want drinks ask Reggie."

"If he can calculate it," Holos snarks. We share a laugh and call out to Jovar and Timmie, both of whom are still arguing. I stand back with Holos and let the others get a considerable lead. "Hanging back?"

"We can catch up, not like they can do much."

"Maybe Jet?" he inquires. One look in his eyes and I can't keep a straight face, rolling my eyes with laughter as I hop on the skateboard. As he gets on his we catch up on the squad, earning the flustered stares of Jet, who was leading the pack, and he desperately tries to catch up.

Our conversation surely segues about the crowded streets of District 6. Even with about eighty-thousand people in the District, a good 10% wanders the streets closest to town square. District 6 is the most diverse when it comes to food, but the bakery is always an old favorite. Once we all get off our skateboards, Rohn pulls out his notebook and jots notes about our orders.

"Let's go with some chocolate covered cake pops," I tell Rohn. He turns to Holos, who asks for Sugar coated loaf.

"Okay, that's all of our orders," Rohn dotes. "So we can have Gourdel up first, asking for orders 1-3, 6, and 8-11, then Reggie with orders 4-5, 7, and 11-16. This will help lighten the load for the both of them in order to pay the most minimal but most equal amounts in order to accomplish this feat. I'm also taking into account…"

"HEY, WE COULD HAVE GOTTEN OUR TESSERAE IN THE TIME YOU'VE BEEN BLABBERING ON AND ON!" Jet impatiently shouts. We all agree in chorus as he falls back, sheepishly handing the list to Reggie.

"You take the top half I take the bottom?" Reggie asks Gourdel. He nods in response. "Janine, Holos, Jet, you want to help lug this out?"

"No worries," Jet speaks up.

"Why'd you have to go and make things so complicated?" I ask sardonically. I turn to Holos just as I stand up, hitting my head on the railing's bar before standing up entirely. "I'm fine, I'm fine, been through worse."

"Didn't ask, you can take a hit so a railing shouldn't hurt you," Holos replies.

I walk with the other four into the bakery, overwhelmed by the smell of flour rising and ingredients being made. Several bums have made their roost in tables closest to the back of the store, smelly and unwilling to work. It takes a while for the order to be placed and be distributed to the five of us. We all walk to the counter and pick up 5 bags each, with me lagging behind. "Thank you," I tell one of the girls working at the counter, winking at her for fun. She blushes but returns to her work. I smile to myself and consider my work entirely done.

We spend about 2 hours simply eating and lollygagging, accused of loitering by one strict peacekeeper before his more lax squad pulls him away, hearing them promise him a fix of their morphling. As I finish my food, I'm more energized and head back on my board, showing a quick trick.

Soon it devolves into a show and tell of sorts. Predictably, it's me, Holos, and Jet who excel. Timmie, Hestair, Ishmael, and Nardo put up respectable shows as well, but of them Hestair is the stand out since he actually recited a story while writing. The others, Uly, Triphor, Turbo, Rohn, Gourdel, Robing, and Yves fail spectacularly. "Come on Yves, get up," I begrudgingly ask him as he lays mockingly limp on his skateboard.

"What for honey cakes?"

"Yves, you'll get run over if you're acting like that. Besides, you don't want to dirty that pretty boy's face of yours do you?"

Immediately he shoots up, brushing off his clothes and casting his model's glare. "Of course I don't want to hurt one of the only things girls like looking at me. Don't worry Janine, these abs are still pristine for you."

I push him back on the ground and leave him to climb back up as I join the rest of the group, idly chattering as the street cars go by. I occasionally chime in with some words about the skating scene, racers and all of that, but my contribution today isn't the most. Looking up at one of the main clocks I see that it's almost 7:00. I did promise my father that I'd come home sooner, especially with the reaping being so soon, so I bid farewell to all of my friends through the streets of District 6.

I knock on the door to our two story apartment, only obtained due to his successful line in developing quick modes of transport. He opens the door with his lab apron hanging off of his shoulder and the name 'Wheeler Midnight' almost slumping off. "Just in time Janine, I finished the next quick transport mode, and was just about to cook dinner."

He's a taller man, so he bends down to hug me tightly. I reciprocate it and walk with him to our small table, just big enough for our two meals and 3 chairs. I kick my skateboard under the table, reassuring my father that I can pick it up later. "I'll try out your new helmet tomorrow, but can I see how it looks?"

Enthusiastically dad nods and picks up the helmet from the floor, explaining that he ran out of navy blue and used a bright neon green. I test out the helmet just as I finish my stew, finding it snug with the straps tightly bound. "I like the style, just get it in different colors."

"And that's my raise for the next couple of months," he says with a smile, taking the helmet off. I stay with him as he finishes his food, occasionally sneaking a piece of meat from him.

 _Roryd Sakon, Victor of Hunger Games 100, District 6 Mayor, 64 years old_

 _Reaping Day_

Of all my jobs as mayor, going through the formalities of the reaping is probably the most hypocritical thing that i am able to do. On instinct I turn in my bed to wake my Nalissa up, but when I'm greeted with an empty side it just reminds me of her early departure but a mere month ago. "Dad?"

Standing at the doorway is my daughter, 5' 7", almost as tall as me, and with my dark gray eyes, but she has her mother's hair with her. "You look just like your mother, Trilond, you're just as beautiful as her."

"Carly's up too. She heard you rolling around so I had to check. Are you alright?"

"Yeah. Don't worry about your old man, he just gets a little worried on days like this," I reply, casting a downtrodden glance. "Especially with the quell."

"Mom's looking from above. And Breakfast is ready."

"I'll just get ready. I will join you in a moment." Trilond leaves with gentle feet and I stare out the window of my house in Victor's Village. At this hour, Phineas is usually up. The only other boy to come home in the last 50 years has been recovering from a battle with morphling and has been getting stronger with help from his sister and girlfriend.

I shift my gaze to my armoire and mirror combination set, glancing at the photo of my small but loving family. Nalissa's smile seems to point to the drawer, still reminding me how to get dressed as both the mayor and one of two victors of the 4th quarter quell. I fix my clothing up and glance at the letter that I've kept magnetized to the mirror.

 _To Mr. Mayor Roryd Sakon of District 6_

 _Although you are the currently acting mayor of District 6, for the duration of the one-hundred and fiftieth hunger games, you are required to come to the Capitol for the celebrations. As you are in a league with Madame Donnabella Firest, Madame Lilian Perad, and Madame Avril Vorell, we implore you to leave the mayoral duties to your deputy mayor. A mayor of your caliber is able to leave his citizens alone for some more hours_

 _HeadGamemaker_

 _Jacobsin 'Jacob' Calirosso_

I sigh as I fold the letter up, moving down for an early brunch with my family. Brunch passes by without much hesitation and Trilond waits with Carly for Harlend. I make the walk to District 6 as Bunny, our most recent victoress, greets me. We walk to the square tiredly and rest on the chairs. Of course, as we have to sit in chronological order, I have to take the seat closest to the podium, followed by Kindred when she arrives, then by Phineas, then by Bunny at the end.

Deputy Mayor Justin Revvers takes care of the formalities once the reaping begins. From what I assume, the camera is zooming over me-a victor of Hunger Games 100, Kindred Feshwar of the 109th Hunger Games, Phineas Rover of the 121st Hunger Games, and Bunny Chevalier of Hunger Games 135. The video ends and the stupidly preppy escort takes the stage. I've seen her as the escort for District 2 when Shale came out of the Hunger Games, so she's decently middle aged.

The escort begins a lengthy speech about the quarter quells, honoring me, but I'm trying to cover my ears and focus on the teenage citizens in front of me. The first named called is Janine Midnight. An average girl, not on morphling, steps out of the 14-year-old section awkwardly twiddling with her ponytails and glancing back at the boys across the aisles. She tries to put on a smile but it wavers, something I've seen quite a bit.

I have to clog my ears again as the escort asks for volunteers, considering I've never liked escorts. Next called is a boy from the 17-year-old section going by Adam Cufole. He's a bit tall and lanky, not unlike several victors in the past, looks a bit muscular but not by much. With a black baseball cap on his head, he looks concerned and stands on stage as stiff as a board.

The escort calls the ceremony to a close and escorts the tributes to the goodbye sections. I run down and hug my family but the escort blabs on and on about Adam having odds of 45-1 and Janine with odds of 50-1.

 _Janine Midnight, 14 years old, Sk8er_

 _Goodbyes_

Of all things...I never expected adventure to turn this way for me. Through the maze of passageways to the goodbye rooms, I see nothing of my partner besides brief glances of his limbs. I hold my ponytails in my hand as the walk to the rooms are blocked by peacekeepers. As I'm about to be thrust in, a peacekeeper hands a note to a government official with some kind of circle on it.

I look at the luxury of the room, taken aback by the most prominent feature, the chandelier. If I was in a better mood, I feel like I could hang on that with relative ease. I'm most fixated on the beautiful lights, hanging down on the chandelier by about 3 inches, bright but soothing, and I sit on the couch, still staring at it, oddly mesmerized even if-no especially as the light begins to flash.

"Five minutes…" I hear a voice grunt. What comes next is the sound of a body being pushed on the floor and bringing itself up.

"Dad!" i shout in fear, running to him.

He's breathing heavily and tears cloud his lab goggles, trying to wipe them with his lab coat. "No...I can't deal...why'd they have to pick you? You didn't get any of that tesserae, did you? Maybe I didn't work hard enough. It's probably my fault, with you reaped, I didn't meet my quota, the helmets were a wrong shade-"

"DAD SNAP OUT OF IT!" I shout back, trying to keep the tears down. "No, it was dumb luck! Dumb luck! Dumb Luck!" Breathing heavily I face my father again and his tears quiet to a gentle sob, I hug him tightly.

He calms down enough to look at me again, breathing calmed but still anxious. "Look, please. You're so much like your mother. Don't end up like her. Make it home, or at least do your best."

"I'll give it my all. Don't worry. Dad, keep doing what you're doing." The light above us begins flickering and my dad looks at it, silently promising and pleading.

A rude peacekeeper barges through the door and grabs hold of my father's wrist. Impulsively he digs through his lab coat and finds a small chain, a keychain, I've seen it on the rack for one of his new modes of transportations. I wrap it around my wrist and wave him solemnly goodbye as he's pulled through the door. "I love you," I whisper.

I'm seemingly stuck to the floor and look around the room, almost looking for a way out. Unless the bookshelf in the room opens to some sort of hidden passage, I see no way out, the window looks like it is made out of bulletproof glass. Another loud knocking barges in, thrusting in three boys as they fall to the floor. "7 minutes."

I look confused at my friends. "We drew straws to see who'd go in, didn't want to intrude on your dad," Jet explains, fixing his hair.

"The others want you to know that they love you. We'll all miss you," Yves declares as he fixes his scuffed shirt.

"Now you may have a token, but just in case…" Holos says with a drawl.

I look at the shined whistle, polished and a lovely shade of sky blue, hearing the rattle of the ball inside. "I love it but...I'm sorry. Dad already gave me mine. Please understand…" I dejectedly reject.

"I understand. Kick ass, have fun, but more importantly, try to make it home," Holos says adamantly.

With a nod I spend the rest of my time in silence as Jet and Yves both try to lighten the mood. Holos looks up and sees the light flickering but does not comment on it, and when they are forced to leave, they go peacefully if a little brashly.

I'm alone for the first time in a long while. I look up at the chandelier again as my eyes begin to fog up.

 _Adam Cufole, 17 years old, Bouncer_

 _Goodbyes_

As much as I don't like it, I compliantly walk the halls of the justice building into the goodbye rooms. I refrain from picking at my brother's black cap and fanning my face with it until I'm thrust into the goodbye rooms. It's a regal sight yes, but the color clash just seems to be a bit too bright for my eyes. I sit on the couch with my head in my hands, trying to force out the inevitable and just plan for the immediate future.

A loud knocking makes me lift my head and through the door spills Dad and Derrick. "Five minutes…" one of the peacekeepers says.

For the first minute, there's an uneasy silence where the three of us aren't sure what to do. Dad is clearly sober but every time he opens his mouth to speak he immediately shuts it, looking around awkwardly. "Adam," Derrick speaks up. "Just...I don't know what to say."

"Neither do I," I reply awkwardly, wringing the hat in my hands.

"Keep the hat. It suits you. Something to remember us by," he says, trying let a smile break through.

"Good luck son," dad speaks up, holding his hand out. I grab his hand and pull him into a hug, one that neither of us wants to let go of. He forces himself to pull away just before the peacekeepers barge in, grabbing hold of their wrists.

I sit in the room alone again, just with my thoughts, and look at the bookshelf on the opposite side of the room. With my curiosity piqued I walk over to the shelf, finding books with the title M upside down. I try to pry them out of the bookshelf but to my disappointment, I find that I can not get them out to any avail. I give up after about the 15th time, sitting back on the couch as I wait for hours to trickle down.

The door opens with a creaky groan and I find my favorite and least favorite friend thrown onto the floor. "Five minutes…" the peacekeeper grumbles again.

Garry gets up with his usual shit eating grin as he tries to make the situation better. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"Well, neither did I," I grumble. "Thanks for seeing me off though."

"Hey, what are friends for amiright?" he says overtly cheery. He continues to chatter, and to my own surprise, I find it helping lift my mood from the downcasts of before. I think for the first time in a couple of weeks I enjoy his company.

"I get it," I cut him off. "You want me to kick all other District's ass, especially 13 for lumping us in this shit in the first place."

"Can you at least try, without the sarcasm?"

"I'll give it a shot. Don't forget about me if the worst happens?"

"I won't ever," he says, crossing his heart. Before the peacekeepers can rudely escort him away he opens the dark wood door himself and walks off, head bowed respectfully as he waves goodbye.

Yet again, I'm alone, presumably for the last time. I'm not entirely sure what awaits me beyond the doors at the shining capitol. There's a knocking at my door and I stand up, fixing my hat as the squadron of peacekeepers retrieve me. Obediently I go, walking with the peacekeepers out the Justice building into the train station as the trains pass by. I can already feel the scented breath of the capitol on me.

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **I hope you all liked this chapter. District 6 is my personal second favorite district but I'll try to keep biases out of this. Adam Cufole is owned by 66samvr and Platrium is the owner of Janine Midnight. I hope that these creators thought I did their characters justice, it was fun creating their lives. And for last chapter, I noticed a bit of stir with the priority system. Basically, the five chosen are the best of the best, in the eyes of the trainer victory is highly possible with most of them, the first priority is just the safest choice for the victor. I hope that clears some things up.**

 **Last chapter the sponsor questions weren't written correctly so I'll try to rectify it here. I was implying that Valda actually dabbed by the way.**

 **1\. What does Garry use to pet Adam? (4 points)**

 **2\. What line of dialogue is made in reference to Avril Lavigne? (4 points)**

 **3\. How tall is the mayor's daughter? (2 points)**

 **Bonus: What is Roryd's full title? (2 points)**

 **I hope you liked this chapter, especially the world building bits**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**

 **P.S. CAKE POPS!**


	10. Reaping, Congested Mines

_**Reaping: Congested Mines**_

 _Erudite Soot, 17 years old, Conspiracy Theorist_

 _4 days before Reaping_

I wouldn't change my life for anything. No, no I wouldn't. A house of 2 bedrooms, a kitchen, and a washroom. The house is small. Small is good. That means that there is less room for thoughts to echo about. Helps keep me focused, but I need to think far more often that I really need to. Think. Think.

But be careful, especially on days like today. Run out in the streets, avoid eye contact, run away. If only I didn't have Telia to watch for. Think, think, I need to think. Days like this are a good day with a good sun. The brightness would distract the peacekeepers so I can walk in peace. "YOU HEAR THAT, YOU CAN'T TAKE ME!" I shout.

Telia runs into my room from her and mom's shared room. She's five. "Erudite, who hurt you?"

"No one, not yet Telia. Don't worry about it. Just get dressed. You did check for bugs right?"

"Yes. I checked the inside just like you taught me to. And I looked at the seams and the tiny tiny bugs aren't there!" She beams widely and leaves the room, waiting just outside as I pick out my clothes. I've carefully picked them out many times over and over and settle for a dark grey t-shirt and smooth shorts. Having checked them out repeatedly means that they're safe.

I step out and meet up with Telia, she needs new shoes. I have to check to be sure that they are from teh most trustworthy of sources. Free of bugs, free of anything, free of pain. I've got to have my eyes especially keen on days like today. Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong. "Mom!"

"Yes Erudite?" She looks up from her quick sewing line with her glasses on her brow and thimbles on her fingers.

"We're going out. I'll be using some of my spare money."

"Okay, take care the two of you," she says before returning to her line of work. We sidestep her overflowing basket of scraps and needles. "Don't spend too much, we need to chip in a little for the repair man. And don't slam the door again."

"But Mom, if we don't slam the door then the peacekeepers will know that we are silent and then destroy our house. If we're silent then our entire house is going to be gone by the time we're back," I worriedly say.

With a sigh she looks to me and sets her craft down. "Uncle Talon and Aunt Mercury are coming tomorrow, they'll try to talk to you again. Please realize what you're going to say can end up causing more trouble than you're trying to prevent."

I nod in obedience but silently disagree and move out with Telia at town. Taking my mother's advice I take better care to close the door, but barely close it enough to let the dust fall from the top of the door frame. "You know why we did that, right?"

"To let people know we're here. And to keep the bugs from hiding in the dust," Telia answers perkily.

"That's my little sister. Stay close, if you stand on the streets too long then people will ask questions," I say in a quieter tone. Moving past the almost desolate slums we try to stay away from the injured wing, as it's called. With no organized medical system there are many people waiting with injuries from the mine and being treated by several women around the District. I hold Telia's hand even tighter to ward her mind away from the stench of beer bottles and healing wounds.

When one of the injured miners walks by I make an effort to push Telia behind me and cover her face. "Get..Why? ERUDITE!" she mumbles impatiently.

Just as her squirming becomes a bit too much for me to handle we move through the injured wing into a much less congested street. "Sorry. Telia, the reason why I covered your mouth was to save you from the fumes. The only reason the Districts allow alcohol of any capacity is because that alcohol keeps us from thinking for ourselves and keeps us complacent," I rapidly explain in a hushed whisper.

She quietly nods her head and makes an effort to close her mouth every time we pass by someone new, just in case they were alcoholics. When we finally make it into town square I still stick to the side. "But I thought that there were no people who have alcohol here."

"Just be safe rather than sorry. Understand?" She nods her head and we keep to some smaller streets and make our way into the shoe store.

It's about the size of triple my house so it's decently big. Most of the space is covered by shelves and shelves of boots of varying quality, sent in from repair or donations but they still look nice. "Welcome," one of the people at the counter says kindly. Even with his blond hair and blue eyes, he's still District 12, so I trust him more. The boy who comes out is just about my age but significantly better fed. "Who's getting the shoes today?"

"I am!" Telia chimes in with a half-insane giggle.

"Well come over here, we have a variety of shoes for you." The attendant keeps to a corner of the room and keeps Telia entertained as she tries on small shoes for her small feet. I look on from a distance, looking for those peacekeepers and waiting if they want to make a move on some of the customers. There are a couple average customers and one peacekeeper but he looks okay. For now.

"I'M DONE!" Telia loudly squeals in excitement. I look and see that she's got a pair of simple but cutesy styled brown loafers. The little flower arrangement makes me a bit wary, it might be a symbol for rebellion or loyalty but I can't be sure. I hastily shove the money into the attendant's hand and run away with her in my hand. She takes great care not to trip and we make it home by a different route. Past the goatman's stall, the victor's garden, and the bakery, we make it home. I know the ins and out of the district as an escape route. Just in case a big tragedy comes.

When Telia and I come home Aunt Mercury and Uncle Talon are already seated at the table. It's an odd peace at the table and I manage to smile even as mom talks with them about Telia living with them due to me. I don't mind, I'm just a little sad at that. Never has my tesserae looked all that enticing.

 _Naette Quill, 12 years old, Toy-Maker_

 _One week before Reaping_

"Hold the lower torso of the horse upright at a ninety degree angle. While doing so, apply pressure on the 2 rear legs to attach them soundly to the horse's frame. Take note of the positions and keep them at 90 degrees to each other while forming a 15 degree angle to ensure that this part of the horse will not fall-"

My routine is interrupted with the thunder of young Briar as he stomps in the room, swinging his play sword against the walls of the house. "DOGGAMIT BRIAR!" I shout.

"Sorry sis," he says timidly. "I was chasing a mouse, and I guess I got carried away."

"Why? Why a mouse? Where'd it come from? How did it even get in here?"

"I think I saw it. Maybe I saw it in my mind. Yeah, that may be it."

"Go search for that mouse somewhere else. And look for your brain too," I say bemused as he wanders out my room. I turn back to my horse and continue fixing it up, brushing off my piles of reading assignments from school. After placing the mane onto the head piece I look at my crafted model. It's a cute horse but if it were drawn to scale I think that the torso would be smaller closer to the head and the feet would be flatter.

Finally I set the horse aside and look to my piles and piles of reading assignments. I pick up my history assignment and begin to read. I've always been a fan of history but they never cover the interesting stuff. Luckily they do today. In front of me is a map of the world before Panem. With about 200 countries I have to look at a guide and label them.

I finish up the largest of the world's landmasses before I'm called down for dinner. My parents normally let me stay upstairs but within a week I might be picked. I run down the hallway and slide in my chair as mom places a plate in front of me. "Evening," Dad says quietly. "Any update on the animal kits?"

"Yeah! I managed to finish 3 horses and 2 wolves and 5 bears! They were really neat to make and I think that they could make very very good gifts this coming weekend for the birthdays and being nice and all of that good tchif."

"Remember what we told you, finish what you say before you put food in your mouth," Mom chimes in.

"Sowwry," I reply.

They turn to my older brother and ask him how his day went. He says that things went fine at school. Bruno also says that he got scouted out by the butcher for a quick job. "I think I'll take it, we still need the money, don't we?"

The rest of us nod in agreement as he talks about the details of his job. I get pretty bored easily so I focus my attention on today's meal of tesserae grain and artichoke. It's not much of a dinner but my family loves vegetables. I do too but it's not my first priority. I look over and see young Briar with a stick in his hand that he twists and puts leaves on in order to make a simple humanoid shape. I'm bored.

"So it's agreed?" Mom asks loudly.

"Yes, I suppose so," Dad concurs. "Bruno, work with the butcher for the alotted time and then report to us every other day. It seems as though you have an early day tomorrow."

"Yes Dad," Bruno replies.

"So does that mean Briar and I will be working harder?" I ask.

"Only if you wish," Dad replies. "Briar and you are still too young but your work is appreciated. Just keep doing what you do keep doing and we should be fine."

"So we don't need more tesserae?"

"Keep your hopes down, but if things go successfully we may need less in the future," dad says with a smile. The rest of dinner passes by with no conversation and we all finish our food in relative silence, with Briar as solemn as he usually is when his food is in front of him.

"I'm done," Briar speaks up, almost leaping out of his chair. He drops the plates in the sink and rushes off to the boys' room with a large stick that he fashions into a sword often. Bruno leaves shortly after with not much voice to his actions and I remain at the table with both of my parents.

"I'm learning about the world before Panem. It's an interesting and big world. Too bad it all got destroyed," I say bitterly. Mom and dad exchange some glances with each other but remain silent. "I need to finish my map today but I am making good progress on it."

"That's nice," Mom says sweetly. "How is your other homework going on?"

"Haven't started, but my math homework is due the day after tomorrow. There are a lot of questions on the slope formula so I need to look at them and practice many times. I don't think it will be easy but I think I can do it while I make more crafts."

"Just do what you think is good and you should be able to finish," Dad says while drinking his water. I finish my food and place the plates in the sink, hugging my father goodbye before I run into my room. I can hear the sounds of bickering from the boys' room even as I walk over to my own room and sit on my desk.

Slowly I pull out the map from the pile of work that I have to do and look again in my history book. Good thing that today was my day to take the book from my table group. I turn the page to the atlas at the front of the page and find the oldest map of the world that I will use for the assignment. A breeze picks up from the window and ruffles the book to page 17. I look at the number and find a 76 written right next to it.

Normally it's enough to distract me but I close the window and return to my work in front of me. In relatively little time I finish the next three continents before I have to sharpen my pencil. As I pass by the kits, I pick one of them up, an elephant, and put it next to my desk as I want to take care of that next time. The last 2 continents are finished with relative ease and I tuck the paper map away.

Even as the light begins to dim I continue working diligently on the kits, finishing 2 more elephants and starting work on the pile of foxes. Dad knocks on my door just as I finish. "Come in," I invite.

"It's bedtime for you. I'll help you pack up. And I'll take the animals downstairs now." I guide the animals into his hands and tuck most of my books away. I crawl into bed and close my eyes as I fall asleep under the blanket. I can't help but feel safe in the soft cloth.

 _Kristyn Juris, Victor of Hunger Games 144, District 12 Female Mentor, 21 years old_

 _Reaping Day_

"Up and at them," my husband says as he stretches. Standing in front of the window he throws open the draperies and lets the light sink in and envelope the room. "Let's get you up. It's a grand day for your in particular."

I nod silently and pull my slippers out from below. At 3 months pregnant I can still dress myself but I have Woodward at my shoulder to keep me with better balance. "Can you get me my cup of water? I'm still thirsty from last night."

"But of course," he says. His smile is still as bubbly as when we were dating and on our marriage night 4 months ago. "Ice or no?"

"None. Didn't it all melt last night?"

"There's a little sliver left. I'll take it out for you. It's what Woodrow Butler does, buttle," he explains. With fluidity he grabs the water and gracefully slides it into my hands. I drink it well and give the empty glass to Woodrow as he shakes off his shaggy hair. I sigh nervously as I glance at the clock, noting it to be just about several hours before reaping time. "Worried about today?"

"Like always." Subconsciously my hand moves to gingerly rub my stomach, concerned for the being inside of me.

"The worst is behind you, and all you have to do is kick back and watch from afar, right? Just keep holding on, and these games will go by in an instant." With him resting his head against my shoulder I take a deep breath and contemplate his optimistic obliviousness. "You aren't mentoring this year, are you?"

"No...no I'm not…" a smile involuntarily grows at my lips. In spite of being the most recent victor, District 12 has been the only District to have won 2 quarter quells. And that means that Lillian is going to be mentoring 2 quarter quells after her own. "That means Lillian is taking mentorship duties for the girl and Ketrin is mentoring for the boys."

"More time for leisure and gift shopping for your loyal husband?"

"That's exactly what it means, besides the ditzy interviews and all of that. I'll be sure to get you something good in the capitol." I have him help me get up on my feet and we go through our morning routine as simply as we normally do. The hours pass by quickly and I walk out the front door with our hands interlocked.

"Miss Kristyn Juris," a bold and regal tone says. "Due to the nature of this district on years like this, we request that you go under the watch of our peacekeeping squad whilst the reaping goes on. Understand taht it is for your safety." A quick glance at Woodrow reassures me and I move with the peacekeepers on the trek to the town square, with my husband in a separate squad.

For safety reasons they have the eligible teenagers farther away from the stage than in normal years and encourage me to wait on a raised platform with a line of peacekeepers just in front of me. My husband, Lillian's granddaughter, and Ketrin's great grandson are waiting on a separate raised platform surrounded by a lesser amount of peacekeepers.

Our escort is a man dressed up like a bard of old who speaks in antiquated verse and has to make every sentence rhyme without reason. As the video is played I look at a personal screen that Lillian has that has the reapings played to us. Ketrin Nostar of the 90th Hunger Games, Lillian Perad of the 100th Hunger Games, and me-Kristyn Juris of the 144th Hunger Games have our names introduced in a bold but dirtied font face.

"Now that the video has reached the end, Miss Naette Quill we shall send," Bardle says as he picks a boy's name.

The girl steps out into the aisleway. A collective wince comes from the audience at the realization that she's just stepped out of the 12 year old section. The camera zooms into her misty eyes as she slowly makes the long walk to the stage and tries to ignore the murmurs in the crowd. It's always controversial when a 12 year old gets reaped, and given our history, especially controversial when a 12 year old girl gets reaped.

While she stands on stage with a blank look in her misty eyes Bardle turns to the reaping ball again and picks out a name belonging to one Erudite Soot.

The boy does not seem to be the most liked of his cohorts in the 17 year old section, with him stumbling and nearly tripping over his own shoelaces. He fixes his messy black hair and runs away from the stage but the peacekeepers grab him by the arms and drag him up. When he stands he's much taller than his 12 year old partner, probably nearing 5' 11", but stands just as slender.

The reapings end when the two are taken into the justice building with no goodbyes, no ceremony. I look over at Lillian's viewing device to see the odds for the two. At 120-1 for Naette and 104-1 for Erudite, it isn't likely we'll be getting a third quarter quell victor.

 _Naette Quill, 12 years old, Toy-Maker_

 _Goodbyes_

I close my eyes as I'm whisked through the many corridors of the Justice Building just to get to the goodbye rooms. Past the beauracratic offices, past the hardwood doors, past the regality of it all, I find myself thrown into a room and land onto plush carpet. I hesitantly dust myself off and stand up and wait for my visitors-if any.

I look around the room and am taken by surprise upon seeing the rich beauty of the room I'm in. With a deep breath I turn to the unlocking door and find two people stumbling into the room with me. "Four minutes," one of the peacekeepers says.

I look between my two main friends as they evaluate the situation. "We came as soon as we heard," Shiloh says as she fixes her necklace. "I got myself sweaty but we had to see you."

The smile that's usually on Leon's face is gone and he really looks scared. "Why'd it have to be you?"

"I don't know!" I shout angrily

"Random luck Leon," Shiloh loudly whispers. "Just try to make it out. We'll be waiting here for you to make our toys, but we want our friend back. Please, try to do so."

The peacekeepers come in for removing Shiloh and Leon, probably way too soon or way too late, but the "good" peacekeepers don't like dealing with us tributes from what others say. I wave a quick goodbye to my best friends and they disappear behind the door. It opens again moments later and my family spill into the room with a little girl. "Hi Auburn," I greet the little girl as she looks at me.

"This is goodbye?" she asks timidly. "Mommy and Daddy say that I can say goodbye, but is that forever?"

"It probably is," I say in a low whisper. "I'll be playing that game and I stand a big chance of losing right now. I don't think I'll make it back."

"But please do! You were going to teach me how to paint the alligators and unbox the puzzles and-"

"Auburn, I'll try my best, but as it stands, I don't think that I'm coming home. Just keep moving forward and don't lose that whimsy."

She nods tearfully and waits in a corner as I talk to my parents. "That poor girl…" Dad mutters.

"Mom, Dad, I don't think I'll make it…" I say quietly.

"We believe in you," dad says. "Just do your best, we think you can make it home."

"We'll be going through a lot in these next weeks but we hope that you just give it your all. 12 year olds have made it out," Bruno says defiantly.

"But they were in the careers and semi careers!" Briar says impatiently. "But I think that Naette can make it out."

"Guys, please…" I say hesitantly. "Mom, I don't think I'll make it back, and I have so much more to do. I just wanna hug. One last one? Please?"

My family exchanges significant glances with each other and they nod. For lack of a better word, we're all incredibly sad at this moment, but the hug is one thing we can get solace from each other. The knocking on the door disrupts our long embrace and the rest of my family stands up. "Good luck out there," Mom says before she and the others walk out the door.

I lower my head as they walk out the door, finding the rags that used to make up my old stuffed horse. The head is still intact, making the rag almost look like a blanket. I hold it tight to me, and claim it as my token when questioned.

 _Erudite Soot, 17 years old, Conspiracy Theorist_

 _Goodbyes_

When I'm sent into the goodbye rooms I try not to sit still. Sitting still would only lead to thinking, thinking would only lead to panic, and I need to keep my eyes wandering and busy. There's a large chandelier above me. There's a window opposite the door. This room is a corner room and there's another window to the left of the first window.

The lights are blinking. Of course they are. They're communicating to me. I don't know how but they must be. I deduce that it's the capitol's subliminal messaging that keeps the citizens placated. I've seen it many times before, in the news broadcasts, mandatory viewings, public executions as of late, even the peacekeepers's messages and-

With the door bursting at the hinges behind me I turn urgently. Then I find my mother with Uncle Talon and aunt Mercury. "Son…"

"Where's Telia?" I ask, enveloping her in a distraught hug.

"We thought it would ahve been safer for her to be outside," Uncle Talon speaks up as he runs his hair behind his receding hairline. "We didn't want to scar her like…" Aunt Mercury places her hand on his shoulder.

"Wait, what? I wanted to see her before I went. Please. Let her in," I feverently request.

"She doesn't need any more of this. She's already been through enough dealing with you," Aunt Mercury speaks up.

"W-w-what's that supposed to mean?"

"Erudite, we're doing what is best for her. She needs to think rationally for herself and create her own life," Mom gingerly explains.

"But I am telling her what _is_ best! She needs to know what happens if she isn't cautious and not throw all of her thoughts to the wind. She needs to know!"

"Erudite…" mom stammers.

"Let me see her, please…"

The three of them look at each other, and the peacekeepers come to take them away. "We love you regardless," Mom manages to choke out before she's taken away. When the door closes another set of knocks makes me alert. Little Telia walks in flanked by the peacekeepers, who look really impatient and only give me 4 minutes. "Erudite?"

"Telia...this is the last time you'll see me," I say bluntly. "People have escaped the arenas btu I'm not going to be one of them. When I die, you need to escape the District. Not now, when the reapings occur. I know the others have escaped. Prim and Madge. Ask around, they know who they are and you have to retrace their routes."

"Brother…" she replies worriedly. "What if they find out?"

"Stay away from the streets. Find out who to trust and who not to trust. Get to District 13 for an incognito life. I know they take refugees."

"H-How do you know?"

"Because I just do. The clues are there, and you need to follows the clues. Got it?"

She nods timidly and hugs me slowly. I hug her for a long while, it's going to be the last one in forever. "Take this," she says hesitantly, digging in her dress pocket and pulling out a tiny doll. I recognize it as her gift for her third birthday, one that I saved enough money for her. The doll's eyes are gone in order to prevent snooping eyes from the Capitol and the peacekeepers from tracking her movement. It's ragged but well loved. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too," I reply. I hug her for a longer time and the peacekeepers have to pry her away from me. She is pulled out through screams and tears and I have to wince to prevent the volume from hurting. I look at the chandelier once more, finding the shape of a long lost token-a mockingjay in the shadows. The peacekeepers take me out just as I put the dots together. A rebellion is coming.

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **So this has been my main priority for a while, usupring my other work, a century and a half of Hunger games, which you are more than welcome to check out for a sense of world building. I'm not too sure if I handled Erudite (created by SparkHat) and Naette (created by PeonyPierce) well, but let me know what you all thought of them. This is also going to likely be my last chapter before school starts, but rest assured I WILL FINISH THIS FANFICTION! In more realistic goals I'm hoping to make it to the 7th reaping by the end of August.**

 **1\. What pair of shoes does Telia get to buy when they go to the shoe store?**

 **2\. How many Bears did Naette make?**

 **3\. How many quarter quell victors has District 12 had?**

 **Bonus: Who are District 12's 2 quarter quell victors?**

 **ANyways, happy sponsor asking, and reviewing, any general questions can be sent to me, and here's hoping for a good start of the new school year...farewell summer**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	11. Reaping, Dazzling Sights

_**Reaping: Dazzling Sights**_

 _Layla Ranevall, 18 years old, Role Model_

 _3 weeks before Reaping_

"Nightmares," I whisper into the dark of the dorm. I've woken up like always in the past couple of months. The others are barely stirring and seem to be in the same half asleep state that I find myself to be in. I look to the left and find my best friend just rubbing her eyes as she slips out of her thin blanket. With a slight smile I crawl out of my bed and begin my stretches.

"As energetic as always, aren't you?" I hear Emeline retort. I flash a cheeky smile in her direction and she seems to wink flirtatiously to me as usual. "So what's the game plan today?"

Without batting an eye at her stripping form, I turn to her as I pull out my own set of clothes. "Gymnastics. It's my agility day today and I want to do my damn best. I know it's what they'd want."

I can hear her suck in her breath as I continue to change into a clean set of training gear, shoving a set of spare clothes into my gym bag as I look in my side-table dresser. "If you say so. I'll be working on endurance against that fucker."

"Oh, him?"

"One night together and he thinks that we're a thing. Can you blame him though? He's from the threaders, good looking though. How long do you think I should keep him?"

"Hey, you haven't had a fling in a while-are you losing your charms?"

"Now that you mention it, I haven't been on a fling, but don't do you dare tell me I'm losing my charms. I can sweep anyone off of their feet sweet cheeks." As she flashes a wink to me I fall on the bed, comically groaning at such sweet words before she helps pick me up.

The two of us walk out the dormitory into the main common hall for the dormitories. I part ways with her as she waits at Ornate's door to his dorm. I wave her off as she perfects her sexy stance. She's not volunteering, damn shame, but at least I don't have to fight against my friend if and when the brawl to the stage begins.

The Training Academy, known as the Polished Gem with the branders that I grew up with, is a wide and expansive mansion with many rooms devoted to various facilities. But with my 10 years as a student here, I know this place like the back of my hand. I pass by some trainees who wave back. I only wave to a couple but smile to each. I'm one of the top priorities for the volunteer spots and most of them know it.

I take a hidden hallway down to the gymnasium where I find it's barely beginning to be filled, the secluded room with only a class of early risers taking care of their routines. "Hi!" a perky voice shouts.

I turn behind me to find a young trainee, one that I've been familar with in the last couple of months. "Hi Dazzle," I reply. "So how have you been today?"

"Tired. I guess that's what I have to do in order to be a volunteer. I need to train for my flips. Can you help me?"

"Of course, they're easy when you have enough practice."

"But I need you to guid me through. You're smart and cool and all of that! Aren't you going to volunteer too?'

"I plan to. And I need to, for my parents."

"That's why I want to be the victor too! I need your help. Please? Please with a cherry on top? Please?"

As she holds out the last letters of please, I slowly twitch, but finally, relent just as I reach my breaking point. She squeals in excitement like most of the ten-year-old trainees and runs to the vaulting horse. It's not uncommon to have to jump over obstacles, but only a District 1 girl can jump over them with grace. At 10 years old, Dazzle manages to jump over the horse with a lot of distance. "I think that was pretty good," I honestly reply. "What's the problem?"

"I want to add flair, give them something to watch out for. Like Desire and Radiance of long ago."

"So what do you want?"

"I don't know."

"Well, if you want something find out what it is you wanted, that will help you get to a location in life. Now, why not add a flip? All you need to do is jump higher with more momentum to account for a flip. Want me to show you?"

Dazzle nods eagerly as I set my bag to the side. With a bit of hip gesture I turn to the springboard and glance at it. It's a simple gesture but since I'm teaching, I take great care to emphasize what movements I make. Even as she loudly squeals I manage to flip over the vaulting horse easily and land in a running stance. "THAT WAS SO COOL!" she almost screeches.

Ignoring my twitching eye, I plaster a smile as I continue to walk to her. "So you saw what I did right?"

"Can you show me again?"

While sighing I return to the start of the runway, going through the routine, and landing in a fixed stance this time. "Let's see you try," I say as I gesture to her.

As she takes a running start she jumps over the vaulting horse and lands with a fabulous stance, as we have taken to call the landing while kneeling. "I think I messed up," she says honestly.

"No! No, you didn't. That's your style and keep adapting it. If you don't think you can do that then try something knew. But you have it down pat."

"Alright!" she shouts enthusiastically. "Tomorrow can you show it to me again?"

With a sigh I nod reluctantly and grab my bag, casting a glance as she continues to practice her jumps over the vaulting horse. I make sure to get away from there as fast as possible, turning into the main hall as I look for a map. "Good job helping that girl," a voice echoes.

I turn around before sitting down when my father's voice becomes much clearer. "Thank you," I say quietly before trying to walk away. The voice follows, but I tune it out when I turn into the blunt weapon room. I'm usually clumsier when it comes to these weapons, so my father's voice turns to a bit more of disdain. While grabbing a club I hear him scoff, joined by my mother's laugh, and can only shut it up by throwing the club violently into the nearest dummy.

I turn around to hear murmuring that slowly escalates to a round of applause. Of course, there were half a dozen trainees watching, and one of them is one of the other 9 girls that I'm competing with for the volunteer slot. Hastily I brush my hair out of my face and give them an award winning smile. "Like that?"

They give satisfied smiles and move off to their training. Hopefully, I left a good enough impact on the lot of them.

 _Nikos Marbello, 18 years old, Loner_

 _2.5 weeks before reaping_

The television high above me as I work on the butterfly press is replaying some of District 1's worst. District 1 is the least strict when it comes to picking volunteers and it's often hurt us. A not so quick girl through a frozen lake with a District 2 boy. It's always the District 1 girl who dies with the District 2 boy, more often than not. In a previous quarter quell, a District 1 girl gets into an argument with a District 2 girl then gets her throat slit or something. The District 1 boy gets knocked out by a brick in second place.

As I finish my reps I hear low instances of murmuring from behind me. Great. Two girls, hands on each other, talking, like always. I can almost hear them talking about me before one of them pulls the other's face into the other. The unnofficial breakdown of District 1 is that it's 90% bisexual, 7% homosexual, 1.5% asexual, and 1.5% straight. At the very least it reigns true in the training center, with guys hooking up with guys, girls hooking up with girls, all of that. I haven't felt anything like it, being the only heterosexual potential volunteer.

I set the weights apart for the next person to use it, any mmovement I make can damage my credibility, rob me of my volunteer spot. Even with the reaping so close any instance of innapropriate conduct will revoke my spot. Or worse, cost me my life.

The two girls behind me break free and scatter away, pretty little trinkets like always. I look at my gym bag below me and contemplate my ID card. Nikos Marbello, 18 years old, 5' 9", 145 pounds. Being smaller than the 5' 11" average of District 1's boys mean that I'm a target. I've always been, there's something about my family that's always been targeted.

I move out of the weight lifting room with my bag over my shoulder. It's just about time for dinner right now. Looks like that it'll be another long night for me. I pile into the cafeteria with the others and take my seat at the volunteer table with 19 others. I can't remember all of their names, but their ages are easier. There are 2 fifteen year olds this year, but it's unlikely that they'll be going in the games.

The majority are 16-year-olds, shockingly enough. District 2 will typically be the oldest of the careers while District 1 will be the middle and District 4 tends to be the youngest. It's more or less inverted for the semi careers. District 4's counterpart, District 7, are the oldest, with our counterpart-District 9 being the middle, and District 8's counterparts being the youngest. So with 10 16-year-olds in the running this year, we may turn out to be the middle this year.

There are three seventeen-year-olds this year, 2 girls and a boy. The other five of us are 18-year-olds. There are 3 18-year-old males and 2 18-year-old females. I find myself dwarfed by the rest of the 18-year-old volunteers and even the 17-year-olds. Still, I sit with my back straight and off of the backrest while remembering my manners.

I stare into my meager but healthy meal of chicken, ignoring the sounds of conversation around me. One of my former friends, Maxon begins flirting with the favorite to volunteer, a 6' 2" stud going by Triumph Chord. Even if he fails, he has next year to bring home the crown as a classic career victor.

I turn to the front and see two of my other former friends, Juliet and Bella, working their charms on a pair of twins. Bella works her charm on the girl while Juliet flaunts her material for the boy. I would have been jealous had I seen that when I cared. The rest of dinner goes by without much of a blur. The victors, the seven living ones, with their families, finish their dinner at about the same time we do. The trainers on a platform below them clean up their foods and utensils and leave them for the avoxes.

The other trainees begin to funnel out of the cafeteria, with some stragglers just starting their dinner now and others trailing with their friends. I gaze jealously at Triumph and Maxon, wanting to have some sense of friendship, but I can't risk it. I just have a tendency to be targeted.

I leave my plates on the table like the others do and finish my quick tomato juice drink. The girls behind me begin to giggle so I turn hastily, finding them flirting with the 15-year-old boy. It's highly likely that he won't be bored tonight.

With very little options I elect to walk up to a trainer, standing up as straight as my smaller frame will allow to match with his height. "I would like to request some time in the killing room for tonight, Mister Fabrege."

Mr. Fabrege bears a striking resemblance to his distant ancestor, our fifth victor Adonis Platinum, and pulls down his glasses as he types out his request quickly. "You are permitted to go. Your victim today will be an adolescent punk from the talliers. He has been convicted of theft."

"Thank you," I reply quickly and turn out of the cafeteria quickly. I've already proven my worth in killing the seven mandatory kills, but the victors and trainers recommend I get my kill count to at least 10. If I do wind up volunteering, my first kill in the arena will be my eleventh.

The killing room is a simple room, set up as an interrogation room with a drain in the center and a line of weapons along the side. The victim stands in the center with the weapon he chose, a sword-typical. He's tall, 6' 3", but gangly. He's probably one of the tallier children who got into too much debt.

He goes down with no fight, and I end up slitting his throat with a bladed disc. For the tenth time I stare at my victim's lifeless body. He probably had a life, he probably had a family, he probably had those watching over him, he probably loved someone-

With the door creaking behind me I jump up and throw the disc just over Divine Avel's head. "Nice job," the victor of the 147th Hunger Games says eerily. He's a teen idol like much of the victors, but is much haughtier, and to me much more intimidating. "I have seen the male killings so far and you're my favorite."

"It's an honor to recieve a compliment of that magnitude sir," I reply curtly. "I shall turn in for the night now."

"But of course. And I do hope you volunteer, you seem to be my favorite for now." Almost like a spirit, he disappears into the darkness of the hallway that leads to the killing room.

 _Finnezi Roxetts, District 1 Escort, 29 years old_

 _Reaping_

The end of the propaganda film ends. Of course it's always a bittersweet thing, the joy upon seeing the propaganda film diminishes with its annual ending, and it'll be another year before I can see it again. "Greetings, Greetings," I greet warmly to District 1, always the prettiest District. "I am excited to be here on today of all days." as the oldest of a set of triplets, I must set a prestige that will make the others have a hard time living up to the legacy of the career escorts.

"I know you love the capitol, and we love you too, so I suppose you all are just raring to go for these games!" As expected I recieve a load of applause from the district. I always did like the girls more, they're the sexiest of the crop when it comes to Panem, and I'm most overjoyed to begin with them. "Let's give a warm welcome to Nevaeh Dante."

Before the 13-year-old can take a step to the stage, a horde of 10 girls scrambles to the stage. It's a bloody event, but when one of them lands on the stage first, I raise her hand and proclaim her the female volunteer of District 1. "Thank you for this lovely day! I'm Layla Ranevall and I'll be damned if I don't dare give a big enough fight!"

She's a stunnign beauty, 5' 11", at my height, with curves along her legs and bounce in her steps and chest. What a fine representative for the ever present Quarter Quell.

"Alright!" I shout enthusiastically. "I wonder if the boys can catch up with Artisan Edgic!"

The 14-year-old instinctively walks out in the aisle before running back to his section to avoid being trampled by the volunteers. It's a stronger battle than what the girls proved, and when a boy with dark curls and tanned skin climbs on stage, I raise his hand and proclaim him the volunteer.

"Thank you once again. I am Nikos Marbello, and am truly honored for this Hunger Games." Honestly, he's good looking, but not the kind expected from the glimmering blonds of District One. His aforementioned dark curly hair and darker brown skin clashes against the light tans and blond hair of his various cohorts that failed to join for the quell. I actually stand taller than him by 2 inches, a rarity in the careers.

"This looks like it'll be an exciting year for District One! I'm ever the most humble to be in the presence of these wonderful specimens. Thank you District One, and may the Quell's odds, be ever, in our favor."

The ceremony closes off to raucous applause as the 2 tributes are guided into the Justice building. I run off the stage into the makeup department, trying to scrub my hands of any blood, however minuscule it may be, and catch up on the live updates. It's favorable for Layla, 5-1 odds for her, and for Nikos, at 7-1.

 _Nikos Marbello, 18 years old, Loner_

 _Goodbyes_

Yep. I'm with another 18 year old, and she stands taller than me as usual. No matter. I stand straight in an attempt to match her height as we dutifully march to the goodbye rooms. I have no clue as to who will visit me, but I must be on guard.

I keep my keepsake, a watch belonging to my late brother, close to my chest before wrapping it around my right wrist. The name on the wristband is faded but I can still make out the letters that spell "Jasper Marbello" in its faded blue font. I look at the door and stare intently at it, almost not noticing it swinging open.

My mother and father, who I haven't seen in quite a while, stumble in with my sister. "THERE YOU ARE!" mother screeches, hugging me tightly. "I had no idea! What the fuck?!"

"So this is what you did behind our backs? Can't say that I expected it, but I'm proud of you regardless," father says warmly but stoically. "You did what I couldn't, so go the distance and complete your dream."

"Don't forget about us, how could you in such a short amount of time? We'll see you soon," Jolie says sweetly.

"Thanks guys, where's Jasper? I thought he'd see me off," I say in a muffled tone. Luckily they don't hear my slip of the tongue and just leave. I know they'll support me, but I wish Jasper would have seen me off.

Even with him dead 8 years ago, I still expect him to chime in with a fun answer and smile all the while. I don't need his corpse weighing on my mind when I have 25 future corpses to worry about come later.

Embarrassingly the door opens when I don't have my eye on it, and it scares the living shit out of me. "Hi," Maxon calmly says. "I wanted to congratulate you for getting the volunteer spot. We should hang out when you come home, shouldn't we?'

"I mean yeah. I'd like that. If I can manage that can we invite Juliet and Bella?"

"Still crushing on Juliet?"

"Hehe, that's over. I missed talking with you. But, I have to keep looking, and if I make it out, then I'll be sure to take you up on that offer."

"So it's a play date?"

"If you can call it that. Maybe Jasper can come? I think he's with me, warning me, but I think he'd want me to go."

"Go to restore your friendships? Yeah, we miss you Nikos."

I offer my hand for a handshake but he escalates it into a tackle hug, sending me to the floor. "I'll root for you."

It's all I can do to wave kindly to him as he leaves. Yet again, I'm alone, for probably the last time before I'm under scrutiny of the capitol. At the very least I didn't have to see any of the fucks from the academy I'm not comfortable with. Not with Jasper's watch around, I couldn't bear seeing them.

Jasper. My brother gone 8 years ago. This is what he wanted to do, so I'd have to live out his dream for him. The plan was us to be the second pair of siblings to come home from District 1, then he got written to die. His killer volunteered, and died in 10th place, a dishonorable pimple. I think that year was either Bruce, Secretariat, or Ulri.

I'll make it back. Jasper needs me to.

 _Layla Ranevall, 18 years old, Role Model_

 _Goodbyes_

As I slowly walk into the goodbye room I flash an award winning smile at the peacekeepers before running to the sink to throw up. All toiletries are available, rags of the finest linen, soaps of the best aroma, I can clean up quickly, I've taught myself how to. I take a quick whiff around the room, impressed by the luxury, and sit on the finely made couch, waiting for what little visitors I may get.

"So you actually did it," Emeline says in half astonishment and half bewilderment.

"It was my plan from the start, why wouldn't have I gone through with it?"

"You know the risks."

"And when I come back after facing those risks I'll face the poor cowards who killed my parents and give them swift justice! You know that's my plan. It's always been my plan. Don't try to dissuade me, you've been trying that a lot lately."

"I'm worried about my best friend. I'm being honest. I don't want to see you change into something you're not."

"Emeline, I'll still be Layla in the games and out the games. I just need to finish what I set out to do."

I hear her sigh loudly and rest her cheek on her hand. "I guess I'll let it slide. I don't want to see you dead. I'm worried about you."

"Emeline don't get me wrong, you're my best friend and if there's any reason to make it back it's you."

"I'll support you. I'll pool what money I can from the younger trainees and send them to you if possible. It'll be a team effort to get you home."

"I know, and I can't help but thank you more than enough for it."

She gives me a chaste kiss on the cheeks and leaves with a sad smile on her face, waving with longing.

I look at the ceiling as my other visitors come over. Giles Templeton makes his way and pushes the hair out of my eyes like usual. He's been my surrogate father with the death of my parents, and he is my father at this point. I hug him tightly as he goes and shoves a button with my family crest on it.

Next to visit is Moses Groom, my trainer. He's holding the hand of the girl I helped train for the weeks before the reaping. She chatters idly about living up to her and bringing the crown in the next decade after me. Moses reassures himself and me that I'll be going home, and we share a hug before he too has to go.

Then they leave and I'm alone. Every shadow across the ceiling alerts me to a new presence in the room, but it's usually a fly that goes in through the open window before stumbling out. When the creaks in the floorboard begin creaking louder I shoot up and almost run into the arms of the peacekeepers who have come to get me. "I'm ready," I tell them with a happy smile.

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **Sorry about the wait. School started up. Yadda yadda radda radda take the moon take the sun there is no candy in me blah blah about school bringing work and all that good stuff because school is a platypus and a platypus is a metaphor for something keeping you _DOWN!_ My sanity is slipping, but at elast I got this chapter out. To GalacticCoach, Layla's creator, I'm sorry if I didn't do her enough justice, and if I messed up in any way, shape, or form, let me know so I can portray her better. The same goes for Nikos' creator PeonyPierce if you're still watching this.  
This has also become my priority over my other main work, A Century and a Half of Hunger Games. I will update that to the best of my ability, but if you want a sense of world building be sure to check that out, I'd like the views please :). Also if you'd keep track of your sponsor points then it'd get a chip off of my load, especially since we're halfway through the reapings right now. **

**Sponsor Questions:**

 **1) What is the training academy known as? (4 points)**

 **2) Who is the favorite to Volunteer? (4 points)**

 **3) Where does Finnezi run off to after the reaping (2 points)**

 **Bonus:**

 **a) What percent of District 1 is bisexual (1 point)**

 **b) How many kills are the trainees supposed to kill? (1 point)**

 **Just for fun:**

 **Where do I get the idea that a platypus is a metaphor for something keepign you _DOWN!?_ (Satisfaction of getting the in joke)**

 **Anyways,**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	12. Reaping, Transitional Reactions

_**Reaping: Transitional Reactions**_

 _Neve Seren Orion, 16 years old, Soldier_

 _1.5 weeks before reaping_

One thing that I haven't gotten used to is waking up to the sun kissing my face. Having spent most of my life underground the sun still is a new aspect. I've found it to be my new favorite alarm. Like always I wake up bright and early, this time to the sun in my window and the sound of life just out my doors.

Even with the new protocol, I take utmost care in keeping up my morning work out routine of a simple 20 push ups, 20 sit ups, 20 squats, and 20 lunges alongside yoga. My alarm clock beeps at 7:00 like I have it do just when I finish. It's usually at this point I'd run my hand under the scanner installed in my room, but with my family relocating aboveground as a result of the new rules the scanner has become a distant memory from 6 months ago.

I climb out of bed into our bathroom, polishing up to put on my sanctioned clothing. Even if it no longer is sanctioned I can't help but feel much barer when not in the long black jumpsuits and coveralls. I walk out into the common room, noticing the sun spilling through our front windows. With the Capitol's take over 7 months ago we've had to relocate aboveground.

A knocking at the door alerts me to the sound and I walk over promptly, opening to see my sister as she stands at attention. "Dismissed soldier," I say lovingly, welcoming her with a hug. As she is over 21, she's been granted a different house, a smaller one. Luckily it's just down the block so she has breakfast with us.

"Love what you've done with the place," she says curtly. "Brilliant job cleaning, I assume that it is harder than cleaning our old compartment?"

I smile and laugh as I explain that yes, it was harder, and she seems to agree with me when we wait for breakfast in the standard issue dining room. Dad just finishes preparing a hearty meal of eggs and bacon when Mom finally finishes polishing their command medals. "Ms. Vega Orion, welcome back," Mom says lovingly as she embraces her. "Explain to us how living alone is different."

"It is quite different. I miss the three of you all terribly and the new home ground is quite daunting. I've procured work as a school teacher so that alleviates a majority of my issues, even with the capitol bearing down on our work. At the very least the school year begins after the Hunger Games begins."

I continue to listen to my sister as she talks about the daily happenings of her life, intrigued at her new prospects and the building blocks of her life. When she cleans up her dishes I follow suit, shortly joined by my father and my mother. "Neve, do you want to search the District for an activity to do?" Mom asks.

"Be that as it may, I'm still required to do my duties around the house, am I not? And I think I have a fair bit that I need to do," I reply.

"Dear daughter, under the circumstances, understand that times are changing. On days like this, when you have a single chore left to do, you have our permission to join the general populace if you wish."

"Thank you, father. But I'd rather help out. My room has gotten untidy in the past week and it should be addressed quickly."

Dad agrees as he gently places the rest of the dishes in the sink. It's his duty to take care of the china and leaves me and mom to take of other duties. Mom continues her pattern of knitting, still communicating with our rebel leaders through the cloth. "Do you need me to hang any laundry?" I offer.

"Thanks, Neve, but you should have fun. This needs to be hung with regards to the sun. I'm still trying to get used to the freer plumbing, so drying may take a while." I nod in understanding while she taps out Morse code, letting me know that the laundry, like times of old, will just be used to send messages. I'm about to turn into my room when someone knocks at the door.

"Soldier Lawson," I say promptly. "I trust that you are doing well."

"Thank you, Soldier Orion. And well, I'm still adjusting to first name basis rather than last name. Seems like you're struggling too, aren't you Neve?"

"It's obvious is it not? The things I wish I could say Anise, the things I wish I could say," I reply tiredly. "Do you come with a message or intent?"

"My intent is to hang out with a friend, so you are the closest one. Damn near miracle we're neighbors again, only across the street from each other instead of adjoining compartments like last time."

"Then I shall join you. Let's see if our casualness can actually shine through. Mother, I am going with Anise to..hang out."

"That is fine with me. Just report promptly at 1:00 pm. I'll be here with your father, airing the laundry."

I nod in confirmation and wave goodbye as Anise and I head down the groomed path to the town center. The reconstruction efforts above ground are going swimmingly, based on the path Anise and I are taking. Already the town square, surrounding a crater from a crashed drone, is built and some of the District 13 officials have been demoted to running the shops. "Are the Lesaunts still around?" I ask in a hushed whisper.

"They are no longer the Lesaunts. They're the Saulents. Creative disguise, but they make good bread. Aldric's dead though. That's all that's confirmed by the capital," Anise replies in a hasty voice. "This isn't going to change matters, but the rebels are still up."

"Then we should help! At the very least buy from their bakery, maybe rebel news will come that way?"

I get an odd stinky eye from her that slowly turns when she looks for some of the peacekeepers. There's been a lot, but as I've found, not all of them are loyalists, and it seems to be the case in District 12 as well. "Just not here. I'm trying to find out ways to fight. It's redundant, but the capitol sucks."

I nod in agreement as we turn into the bakery. It's abuzz with life as the Saulents get prepared behind the bakery. It's subtle, but on the menu board, the Mockingjay is imprinted below the District 13 classic of rationed bread. The girl at the counter calls up three orders of rationed bread for the cooks in the back and sends them down.

Anise and I add two more orders of the same meal to her pile. I suppose the ambiance would add flavor to it. I muse over that thought as the paper bag is handed to me and I move with Anise outside to the bench seating. The sun beats down gently as we watch the trains move in with more supplies and peacekeepers. It's a quick snack for the day and actually tastes pretty decent if a little nostalgic.

As customers leave the door we hear them complain, grumbling about the capitol, but putting on a nice face for the peacekeepers. No matter what, the capitol won't keep us down.

 _Jakob Torser, 17 years old, Snarker_

 _.5 weeks before reaping_

The alarm that rings through the mine is blaring loud enough to signal us all that the work day, or at least the four-hour shift of the work day, is over. I join the line of workers as we climb out the pit and drop our tools at the peacekeeper carts. I sit in the jeep for the 15-minute drive to the town square that splits off into the rest of District 13. I've been with this job for about a year now, that seems like it, and I think my seat is well engraved in the jeep by this point.

As I close my eyes for the ride it takes a fair bit of my power not to fall asleep, but when I open my eyes, town square is already in sight. The sun is still relatively high in the sky and the square is just beginning to reach the end of its first boom. I lift my worker's hat and pull out the grocery list, something to check out from the general store and others. Like always, she puts a message - "Long live us, long live freedom" at the bottom of the list.

Yes, District 13 is still a rebellious District. It's subtle, but the slight imagery: an old flag of red white and blue, the number 1776, the number 50, the Mockingjay, and primrose and rue flowers over the district. Thank goodness the Capitolitans are too dense to see where they are or tell what they are.

While the rest of the workers move to the right, away from the town square, I turn into the general locale into the general store. Spotting a familiar face near the door, I press my face against the glass in order to spook her. She screams loudly before opening the door and slapping my shoulder. "You butt!" she squeals.

"But what?" I sarcastically reply. "Work's over so I'm taking care of the homestuff. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"Damn shame we aren't neighbors anymore, eh Jake?"

"That isn't my name you know," I say with a dropped face as I slide the list in front of the cash register. "But I suppose I can let it slide so long as I can call you Ally, right Banny?"

"Fine, but don't expect me to call you Jake then, Soldier Jakob Torser."

"So I take it you aren't transitioning well?"

"The surface is weird. And moving in is even stranger. We actually have more color in our compartment. I haven't seen a use for color besides the chemical lab but I think it's pretty nice. I mean our compartment is basically the same layout of our house but the lighting makes it look all the better.I take it you're handling life better?"

"The sun is a nifty alarm clock. Dad's doing better. I haven't been doing much besides walking around and checking out the reconstruction efforts," I explain. The person behind the counter, someone I recognize as an old teacher, hands me the list.

"You're going to have to go to the tailor's for the blue spool of string, go to the butcher's for the eggs, but other than that, it's all here," he replies with a heaving breath. "Thank you for shopping. Panem long lasting, freedom forever."

"Well, I'll be off then," I say farewell to Albany. She waves back and continues to wait for her order. The butcher and tailor are right nearby the grocer's, so it doesn't take me as much time to walk over. To my surprise, both shops are empty of customers, and the attendants give me my necessary supplies quickly.

When leaving the town square, I hear the commotions of a whipping going on. I resist my urge to join the expanding crowd. It's probably been one of the more common occurrences of late and I've seen about three in the past week alone, so it really isn't anything new for me. My house is near the town square so walking home won't be an utmost drag. I knock on the soft wood door as I look through the slot. "Jakob!" Arthur greets me enthusiastically. "Mom was wondering where you were for a while now. She said that dinner is going to be ready in a bit and we just need the rice to cook."

"I have that right here. Is Genevieve here yet?"

"Yeah, she's taking care of dad right now. WAnt to talk to her?"

"Why not? I need to check in on dad too." I go with Arthur past the living room into Mom and dad's room. I hug Genevieve tightly as I let her leave the room quietly. Dad lies on the bed in a state of pain, only on good days is he allowed to leave, and when he cranes his head he smiles at me. "Hey dad."

He smiles and mouths "good evening" to me. He makes a gesture to the glass of water on his side table and I grab it, guiding the water into his waiting mouth. HE slurps it tiredly and wipes at his mouth. Dad's incident occurred a little over a year ago, and I'm grateful that he's alive for now. "I had a good day today, I got the supplies, met up with Albany, but otherwise not much. I hope that you are doing good. Are you?"

He nods his head slowly but the smile lines show his enthusiasm. He makes a gesture for a hug, leaning over so slightly, but I meet him halfway in an effort to not have him tire. "Good night dad."

I shut the door gently and go into the kitchen to help my mom unpack the groceries. She greets me with a hug as we place the goods into the pantries. "The rebels are still up and at them in the grocers. The hope for the rebellion won't die," I state quietly.

"I know they won't. Time is of the essence, and I'd rather your father be alive to see his children free," she says quietly. "Anyways.." she calls to Arthur and Genevieve as they finish up the last of a book. Dinner goes by quietly but heartily, as it's usually been in the last couple of days.

Arthur says his little tutoring session with the neighbors is going well and that he likes teaching the girl next door about chemistry. Genevieve's work as a chemist in training is going well and she thinks that she can be promoted sometime in the next month. Nothing happened in the mines of note, but I do tell them about the whipping in the square.

Like always, dinner goes quietly and we close off the night with a quick board game that we snuck past the peacekeepers. I win the first round but Genevieve sweeps past the second and third rounds. It's a good set of hours.

 _Nathan Brinners, District 13 student, 19 years old_

 _Reaping_

"Are you ready you guys?" I ask quietly. I hear sounds of agreement as they walk through the door. My siblings all file out, 14-year-old Norman, 13-year-old Ivette, and 12-year-old Julia all are dressed in their best and are incredibly nervous. "Let's go. Mom and Dad still have to keep up the store. It'll be fine, okay?"

They nod warily and walk silently to the reaping. I'm pissed, quite frankly. All because we built up to the rebellion too slowly, now it'll be another generation. The reaping starts about 25 minutes after the kids go to their sections. The 35,000 or so people of District 13 are now in the general vicinity of the town square, watching the officials march to the stage. Our newly appointed mayor is an old commander, Carolyn Everind Dianne, whose family came here from District 12 many decades ago. From what everyone says, she's related to the first Mockingjay, however distantly.

Standing on either side of her are 2 peacekeepers as she goes through the first of several formalities. About this time, Arx sits at my side on a pile of shoes that he furnished from the store's surplus. Mayor Dianne gives way to a ditzy escort that introduces the propaganda video. When it ends she introduces herself as Lissawakening Emmerymblem.

"So I know this is a new and exciting experience for you all, but you're all a bit nervous. I can see it, but don't worry, all is well for Panem thanks to your inclusion on this monumental quell," she says excitedly. Ther'es a lot of murmuring in the audience that's hastily shut up by the sound of a whip and gunshot simultaneously. We don't like it and I'm sure that she knows, but she's probably just putting on a face, or she's just that stupid. Arx makes a gesture of shooting himself as the girl's name is called first.

"Let us start with Neve Seren Orion as District 13's very first tribute," she announces to the slightly stirring crowd. A girl with blond hair is pushed out of the 16-year-old section, average looking and rather short with blond hair. Her pale skin jostles against the escort's colorful flamboyant outfit. "Do we have any volunteers that wish to go in her place?" The girl, Neve, stands in the front with a resolute look on her face, obviously not desiring nor wanting for anyone to volunteer for her.

"In that case, we shall continue with the boys. And let us have our first boy be Jakob Torser," she says while slightly laughing. The stirring in the 17-year-old section eventually drops out an average boy into the aisle. He looks around and ruffles his blond hair before almost stomping to the stage. We can tell he's angry but he chooses to shut up on the stage. "Thank you District 13 for this lovely first reaping, I'm glad that you decided to have me, and let this be the start for many happy generations of hunger games. I just know that one day you'll have a victor to join Whelsis, Pristine, Beacon, Valentine, vivacious, Sheen, Glisten, and Divine of District 1 someday."

The reaping thins out as Neve and Jakob are sent into the justice building. Some citizens line up with the peacekeepers to have their privilege to say goodbye. Norman, Ivette, and Julia all join me and Arx on the porch, relieved.

 _Jakob Torser, 17 years old, Snarker_

 _Goodbyes_

This is honestly very new. The justice builder was the first building constructed above ground and is very much a new expert. I am guided with my district partner to one of 2 goodbye rooms, where the hall splits apart to separate rooms, and I am thrown into the regality of the entire room. It's a nice fixture, but I think that it's only used to sedate us. I can easily see it as a sedation scene where the tributes can easily vent their anger.

I have no time to scream before the doors fly open. A Peacekeeper holds the door open as my father is impatiently wheeled in. Mom, Genevieve, and Arthur are thrown in immediately after him and I am given 10 final minutes to talk with them. Mom is already on the verge of tears and Dad stands as still as a statue. "Guys…" I begin to say.

Genevieve abruptly stands up and leaps to me with a hug. "Make it back. I don't care how, show the capitol fucks who's boss, just try to get home to us!"

"YEAH!" Arthur shouts behind her. "Make it back, I know you can! You're supposed to show me all those things and help with the girls, don't you know? Please try to. You have to guide me, and I promise that I won't pester you for that much."

"I'm going to miss you guys so much. But don't put too much hope for me, okay? Just try to keep moving forward."

"District 13 is full of fighters. I know that you're one of them," Mom speaks up. "Do it for us, just do your best to come back to all of us. That scar on your arm shows that you can fight. Just try to fight back, and make it to us."

There's a long lasting moment of awkward silence while we wait for the peacekeepers to come. Dad begins to move slowly from his wheelchair and holds his hand out. He points to me gingerly and holds out his watch. "For me?" I ask cautiously.

Tiredly he nods, trying not to move his head as much. His mouth twitches, and he slowly has an open smile. "Thank you," I say, looking at the broken wristwatch.

As he passes a final smile, the peacekeepers barge in and begin to wheel him out. "I'll try to come back!" I shout to my family as they leave. "I love you all!"

The door slams just as I see Genevieve turn to say something else. From the footsteps, I hastily hear just outside my door I can assume that they're hastily rushed through the justice building in order to leave.

I look at the watch my father gave me, looking at the time permanently locked at 2:45, with the army time of 14:45 at the bottom. The second hand can only tick back and forth from the 5 second mark and the aesthetics look mostly cracked. The door opens in a moment of self-reflection and Albany strides in with a peacekeeper at her heels. "Jakob...how?"

"Don't ask me, I have no clue," I coldly laugh. "I'm just trying to come up with a plan."

"Just fight to the end, get to the end, come back. I'll miss you. I've absolutely loved hanging out with you, and none of the other guys on my block want a girl best friend eh."

"I promise that I'll try to fight as hard as possible. Dad and you all need me, don't you? But for now, you've been an amazing friend."

I hug her tightly and she doesn't let go for a while, waiting silently for the door to open. "Take care, okay? They can't do this any longer, and we'll kickstart it further," she says when the peacekeepers finally barge in. She's guided through the doors with a quick gait and can barely look over.

I nod to myself and silently promise that I will.

 _Neve Seren Orion, 16 years old, Soldier_

 _Goodbyes_

The peacekeepers barely make noise as me and Jakob, my partner, are sent through the maze of corridors in the District 13 justice building. It's obviously meant to disorient a person in order to prevent them from escaping and the end destination comes after a lot of walking.

It's an ornate room, to say the least. A well-stocked bookshelf marks one wall opposite to a finely made couch and loveseat combo. The sink in the corner is also well made and shining due to the beautiful chandelier. I sit on the couch and wait for my fate, looking at the door to see if anyone will come in the upcoming minutes.

The door opens for my family as the peacekeepers give me 10 minutes to talk to the lot of them. "Hi mom, dad, Vega. I'm quite dumbfounded. I don't think that there's much to say."

"There isn't much to say, but you have been a District 13 girl trite and true for all of your life. You have the right to fight back, come back at any cost, and stick it to the capitol," Mom shouts. "Make it back to us, we've been training for a fight, so come back for us."

"Your ancestors fought in the old dark days and fought for all we stand for. Do not let them down. We believe that you have what it takes in order to become the victor. But whatever it is, we just want our little daughter back."

"Just do what it takes," Vega says. "Please, little sister. There's so much more we have to go through."

"Thank you, I'll, I'll miss the lot of you. Just don't forget about me if the worst is to happen. I will try my best not to let it get to me. I'll fight like District 13 can do."

Dad pulls all of us in a final but brief group hug that only breaks when the door to the goodbye room. I wave them off as they march silently out, casting forlorn glances before filing through the door into the pristine hallway. I take a look to the chandelier and look at the flickering lights, finding myself sedated by their ever present glow. I get up and wash my eyes at the sink, only to be interrupted when Anise is thrown through the doors and given five minutes to say goodbye to me.

"So what's the status update? How's District 13 on the other side?" I ask curiously.

"The reaping kind of didn't go well with a fair bit of us. Some peacekeepers got assaulted but there were only like 2 punished people. There are people being whipped now. Why the fuck do they think that this can make any aspect of Panem better?"

"I'd think it's the grandfather clause. Are the rebels riled up?"

"I suppose they are, just gossip though."

I nod solemnly in knowing that the District is all the more willing to fight when it comes down to it. "So I suppose I've got to try to make it back." Upon seeing her nod in agreement I continue to talk with her. "I'm going to try to fight at my hardest. You know? I've got stuck in this mess and the least I can do is to try to get myself out."

"Took the words right out my mouth," she says sadly. "I don't want you to die. I suppose that would have been obvious but I really don't. You're my best friend, and all those children you commanded are waiting for you."

"Come on, I'm not the most important person. And I was just doing my job in that time."

"Yet you did it amazingly. Make allies like you work with others and you'll be able to make it out in no time. I believe in you, and the others you helped train will be rooting for you."

"If you can find them, give them my regards, okay?"

"Okay," she says before hugging me tightly. She goes through the opened door after waving me goodbye into the white marble room.

Once again I'm alone. To get my mind off of this, I begin to work on my strategy, riling myself up not to give up. I won't, like I told my squadron when I still lived underground, I won't.

* * *

 **Hey guys, Hopps here**

 **It's been a while without an update and I guess my main ACAH fanfiction is going to be not updated in a month, but at least I got this chapter out to you all. District 13 has always been an enigma for me and I really hope that you all like this chapter very much. TheReaper94 is responsible for creating Jakob and Irew2376 created Neve. Now I know I probably changed a lot of their backstories, so if any of these authors have a qualm with their characters, I hope that they let me know.**

 **Also, keep track of the sponsor points I sent you, since school is kind of ddragging on me at this point, but I'm pushing through even with the college class I've been stuck with**

 **Sponsor questions:**

 **1) at what time does Neve's alarm clock go off?(4 points)**

 **2) What almost distracts Jakob from returning home? (4 points_**

 **3) How many people does Nathan estimate to be in District 13? (2 points_**

 **Bonus:**

 **a): At what time is Jakob's token stuck at? (1 points)**

 **b): What does Neve think is the reason that the hunger games still go on? (1 point)**

 **Just for fun, which disney movie featured predominant amounts of time travel with 2 time machines and a villainous hat?**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	13. Reaping, Fabricated Textiles

_**Reaping: Fabricated Textiles**_

 _Jensen Allard, 12 years old, Spoilsport_

 _4 weeks before reaping_

"Come on, let's just cut this," one of the boys sitting behind me says idly to his friend.

"Why do we have to learn this? Panem's gonna collapse eventually, and we won't have to do this shit anymore," his cohort replies.

"That's what I've been telling you, just train in the gymnasium and we'll be set for life. And even if we are reaped, we'll kick ass regardless."

Sharply I turn around, making enough noise to alert the teacher to the discussion. "Can you guys please shut up?! Madame Gossier is trying her best to teach us how to make an honest living and you guys are here disrespecting her at every chance you get!"

The two boys glare angrily at me as I look to the front of the class, earning an approving glance from Mrs. Gossier as she glances back. "Thank you Jensen, I do apologize if you were distracted, I can move you or the boys if you want to, but we'll hold off on that for a while, let us finish this lesson."

She continues her lesson about the process of washing and mixing dried wool. Going over the three main machines seen in most of the 64 factories of District 8. With the ringing of the bell, she gives us all a light stack of papers to signify our homework due in two class periods after this one. I begin to walk out the door when someone shoves me to the ground. Mrs. Gossier pulls the boy who pushed me down and begins to reprimand him, allowing me to go off.

I walk out the door with a gentle step and turn to my locker, recalling the combination to be 43-63-29, opening it cautiously and sliding my clothing textbook inside. I polish off the dust from the top shelf and close the door, sure not to dislodge any of the hinges, and join several others going to the library.

With the reaping up close, the peacekeepers have placed a curfew on the school, and therefore herd us to various locations in order to keep us under watchw. The exceptions are the trainees at the academy who are allowed to go under a scrutinized eye, but even then they are far and few between. "Let's go," one of the peacekeepers says to a dawdling group.

For an hour I spend my time in the library looking at the old dilapidated books, trying in vain to find a quiet spot, ignoring the others as they chatter aimlessly. It irritates me to no avail and though I try to shut them up, they don't pay attention. When the hour of curfew ends, most of the kids begin their walk home. I accompany most of them down the school's main entryway and file with the masses as they go home.

Some of the transport cars swing by the school's front courtyard and open up for the students. Under the smog they seem to disappear on the paved streets into their towering skyscrapers. I see a larger population of us moving into the alleyways, going to their slums of homes. District 8 has never been much of a prosperous District, and still a large amount of us moves to the alleys, ready to resume their lives of beggars.

Still a sizeable amount of us cross the street and move into one of several skyscrapers. I'm one of many as we are flanked by several groups of peacekeepers occasionally. I pull out my list of errands from my shirt pocket and wander into a quick little grocery store. I place my list on the table as I fall in line, waiting for the others in front of me.

As a skirmish breaks out in front from a kid and a teenager like me, and I get nudged in the process. "Hey, can you please stop?" I meekly ask out. The kid, a bratty girl, coughs wearily and pushes me off as she continues to scream to the frazzled teenage worker. "He's doing all he can, can't you just shut up?!"

She huffs loudly and slaps me in the face, murmuring something along the lines of "I'll kiss your father and tell him to shut up" before the peacekeepers drag her away. I catch a glance at the man who places the handcuffs on her and nod momentarily, hoping that he may have dark green eyes and a mop of blond hair. But alas, none of them have those features.

I get the bag of groceries and walk out the store with a lighter chip off of my shoulder. "Hey, uhh, Jensen, was it?" Someone walks up to me.

I smile as one of my classmates comes up to me. "And it's Jasinta and Hector." They are two of the few people who tolerate me, so I suppose they're friends. Hector and Jasinta look like they have a crush on each other, and I'm waiting for them to get together. Hector turns to me and playfully punches me just as we pass some peacekeepers. Jasinta reprimands him as we exchange jokes.

We arrive at Jasinta's skyscraper not five minutes later and Hector and I wave goodbye. She slings her napsack over her back and continues to walk up the stairs to her third floor apartment. "So I don't suppose that I can have your homework to cheat off of?" Hector asks.

"You know that's academic dishonesty, and I would like to preserve my integrity, so no thank you."

"I'll beat you up if you don't give it to me," he jokes. I push his chest with a light tap and he feigns hurtness before laughing, resting his arm on my shoulder. "I'll see you around though, good luck with the rest."

"You do too." I walk into my skyscraper and slide into the elevator with three others. On impulse I glance at the elevator manager, who looks strikingly familiar to me. But his glasses truly impair his looks and I can't tell any notable details this time around. The seventh floor comes up for me quickly enough and I slowly slide into my small house.

"Hey Mom," I greet tenderly as she looks at me jittery. "Did you manage to find work today?"

She nods eagerly. "I did get some work sweeping the building's floor. I can keep it for three months, so you dont' have to work so hard at school so I can pamper you some time soon," she jokes.

"Let's save the money, alright?"

"Did you see your father? I think I saw him in the building a while ago."

"Not today mom, like always. I'll be doing my homework for an hour okay?"

I hug her tightly as she nods and looks at the newspaper slipped in with the groceries this time around. I slowly close the door to my room as I plop on the bed. It takes up most of my room, and acts as a storage case, so I pull out my workbook and continue to work. I slide one of my candles out and light it, waiting as the flame goes up. "Chapter 12, Probability," I read the title aloud.

 _Lenora Cotton, 16 years old, Assembly Line Worker_

 _3 days before the REaping_

There's a lot in order to do for the week before the reaping. Some of the clothes on the first assembly line are going to have to be delivered to the shop in front of the factory. I think-yes, looking at the check list in front of the conveyor belt confirms that these clothes are to go to the front shop, just the shirts though.

Of the 64 clothing factories, eight of them are built with a shop in its own. The factory I work at is currently the largest of the 64 factories and is more concerned with work and fancy uniforms. The average age of the workers here is about 18. Contrary to Capitol Belief, I am not an outlier. I join my coworker, a 15 year old girl as she slowly inputs the load into a packer. The teenagers like us are put on the ends of the line, easier jobs than the people at the front or the middle.

It's not much but for every six hour shift we complete, it helps pay the bills. The bell for the shift rings above the whir of machinery and most of the machines shut down. On some days I've actually seen that they shut down for seven mere minutes for the next shift workers to file in. I wave goodbye to my coworker as we grab our bags and head our separate ways.

I slowly count my pocket money, slipped within my bag during work, and file out with the others. I stand quite tall among the others, but being a factory worker I'm not going to be as tall on the streets, where their average height is almost six feet for an ungodly reason. In the hour before the trolley comes over to our factory, I usually find myself in front of the factory's predominant front cafe, sipping a tea given by one of the kids who works there.

The cafe is a favorite of victors too. I've seen Wendell Stitches of the 114th Hunger Games come in and ask for chamomile tea to quell the nerves occasionally whiel our current heartthrob, Indigo of the 134th, successfully gets a date here. I've seen Velvet and Denim frequent here too, but not as much. The victors have all come here at least once though, I note as I look at the wall to see the 10 victors lined on the wall.

"Come on," I hear as someone taps on my shoulder. My older brother still smiles even though he's tired. "Our trolley's here, you know mom wants us at the apartment sooner rather than later."

"Okay Rufus, I'll leave a tip." Frantically I dig through my pockets and only pull out a 25 cent coin, not enough, but the next time I come here I'll be sure to give a double tip. He wraps his arm possessively around my shoulder as we go out the cafe into the street, mindful of the beggars and those itching for a fight. We catch the trolley in the nick of time.

It's crowded, like always. My taller brother swings an arm around me and finds a seat for me, telling me to sit as he watches on guard. "So how was work today?"

Even though I can barely hear him, I know what our conversation usually is. "Boring. Normal. Busy. What else do you want me to say?"

"No injuries, no deaths, no mishaps, no mislabeled packages?"

"Nope. Another average day. And 2 more to go to before the reaping," I note. The conversation slows as the trolley makes it to a stop around one of the bakeries, a favorite of one of our first victors, and lets three others on while 5 others get off. The conversation is allowed to continue as more and more people slowly file off. As luck usually has it, he and I are the last on the trolley, and head down to our skyscraper. It's a smaller skyscraper and only stands at ten stories when most land in the range of twenty or thirty stories.

"So are you going to wait down here for a while?"

"I'll see if the girls want to hang out or something, maybe talk with them for a while, if only to get something to do."

"I'll see you in forty minutes then. Mom and I should have dinner ready at that point," Rufus says. I wave goodbye to him cheerily as the rain starts to pick up. Great.

Some of the kids outside our skyscraper apartments go inside immediately but a brave guy takes off his shirt and runs, chased after by a girl and 2 other boys. I join most of the others in running inside for cover and wait in the lobby with the idling receptionist. The kids in the rain actually look to be quite rich, due to their less malnourished frame. I think the boys are even packing nice abs that look good in the rain. I chuckle lightly and grab one of the magazines.

CAPITOLITAN METROPOLITAN LIT NEWS! The headline blurs obnoxiously. I look through the pages, finding a passage on the intricacy of last week's hottest fashions, pushing out the old styles of animalistic views and electronic eyes. They tease the idea of District 8 being one of the frontrunners at the fashion scene. The 64 factories are presented in much more color than District eight is known for really.

I take a glance at the clock, with it being 20 minutes before I'm supposed to meet up with my family upstairs. The good looking boys come in sopping wet with their female friend just behind them as she playfully hits them with their shirts. The elevator comes down and they swap places with a young girl. She looks intimidated by the older people but her face warms up when she says hi to me. "How are things?" Calicette asks.

"Nothing much, bored the heck out of my mind, tired. Thanks for asking," I reply. "How are you?"

"I'm going down to the store real quick, just getting some cloth. 25 cents should last me, right?"

"Fabric is coming out of our ears, if you can't get it for a quarter then I don't know what you can get it for."

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow," she says. The elevator goes down just as she leaves the lobby. By fortune, I'm the only one in the elevator as it begins to ascend, and I have a fair bit of time watching the lights flicker on and off. I reach the sixth floor relatively quickly and traverse the maze of hallways to my apartment.

When I saunter in the dirty 2 room apartment, my feet are aching, and I plop on the couch and begin to read one of the papers. "You're home early," Mom notes. She heaves and coughs but continues to cook. I see her pass a weary smile as my brother grabs the plates behind her. "I hope that work was as fruitful for you as always, and don't fret because Dinner is coming."

Rufus puts the plates on the tables and beckons me over with the utensils. I manage to strike up some energy and move to the table, finally ready to eat.

 _Irquadia Manir, 16 years old, Emo Student_

 _Reaping_

The District 7 closing words slowly fly off the screen with Aster and Juniper's odds displayed for a while. There's a brief pause to advertise a black and white bear that can transform into a much cuddlier yellow variant. I'm bewildered at how fast they can make the Mono-Pooh-ma mutt into a toy.

"Babe," Calieron prods. I gaze into his dark black eyes and wink at him before yawning. "What's up?"

"I hate everything nowadays, I hate you and the Hunger Games the least of all. I kind of just want to hate everything like the Districts and the Earth you know? It hasn't done much for us."

I feel a slight tingle down my spine as he caresses my surgically implanted ebony black nightshade wings. "We can buy a victor for a night, right? Your mom is in that position, maybe that would make you hate everything a little less."

"Heh," I chortle calmly. "Nah. Let's dig up some of those old Finnick Odair tapes, his torso is something that I can hate minimally."

"So can I," he jokes, showing a bit of his still white teeth. I've been prodding him to dye them black for a long while but he's adamant in letting the yellow show naturally. The television program of the reaping returns with a blaring sound that signals the end of the healthy reminder. District 8 is one of the stronger Districts, surprisingly enough, at this point with 10 victors to its name. However, their four living victors put them on par with District 6 as for having those victors alive.

The escort is a fumpy old man with a giant poof of hair that adds a foot in height to match the 5'11" Indigo Newsom. The victors seem nervous. They, not like 7 or 9, have won a quarter quell. And it's likely they won't have a volunteer this year again.

A 16 year old's name is called, this one belonging to little Lenora Cotton. She stands weary, on the verge of tears, and looks to an older boy in the 18's for support. There are no volunteers. District 8 usually has a volunteer every five years and a pair of volunteers every 10. The girl stands on stage and tries not to let her brown hair cloud the vision in front of her sad brown eyes.

Next called is a 12 year old named Jensen Allard. The audience collectively winces but several boys and girls in the 12-14 year old sections break into a smile. I guess that the boy wasn't popular. He takes to the stage almost as tall as his partner. I guess if he could grow taller he could easily clear 6 feet. The camera focuses on his skinny hyperventilating frame and quite malnourished body as his hazel eyes grow close to tears. He breaks into them before the camera pans away.

The escort says some rudimentary and formal bullshit as the ceremony comes to a close with a pan over the victors Denim Cupin, Wendell Stitches, Velvet Temnsus, and Indigo Newsom. The last victor gives a wink and the screen wipes to the Escort's closing remarks as we prepare for the grainery District.

"I hated that a little less," I half joke. "At least I have a nice pillow to rest on for all of this. And Mom still doesn't know we're dating. So remember to pick up your feathers."

Annoying he nuzzles his black feathered head on my scalp and pulls me close to his lean muscular body. I'm about to sleep on his body when the television cuts from showing Lenora and Allard's bets to the fuming image of my mother. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING YOU MOTHERFUKERS?!" she screams.

 _Lenora Cotton, 16 years old, Assembly Line Worker_

 _Goodbyes_

I don't have hope. I've been chosen to die as my duty. I have to fulfill it or come home against the blood of 25 others. When I'm thrown in my room, I realize that the former option is much more plausible. I dry my tears from my eyes and crawl hastily over to the sink, breathing heavily as I look forward at me. I splash my face with water just as my family runs in.

Mom has to almost be carried by Rufus, who sits anxiously at the couch. I sit next to him and bury my face in his shoulders. "Your friend says goodbye. The one from our apartment. She wanted to come but her parents pulled her away. She says she wants you to come home."

"I-I-I don't think I can," I dejectedly say, barely lifting my head from my brother's shoulders. He cradles my head inward slowly and I let myself sob.

"I can believe in you. You can pull that spunk if you need it and blow it up to proportions if needed. I believe in you, If you need to make it home, I will love to see you do that."

"Yeah,' Mom chirps, barely looking in my direction. "Please. I think I can see you home too. Just don't give up. Try to vary your skills. Avoid others, they'll just give trouble."

Rufus nods in agreement and tries to break a smile, and actually succeeds. I hug him and mom tightly and treasure the last moments with my family until the peacekeepers knock. I am shocked out of the long hug and try to stay with them for a while longer but both my brother and my mom are pushed out of the room fiercely.

I think loneliness is something that I'd better get used to. I wait in the room for what seems to be an eternity in loneliness. The room is a nice contrast between the world inside and outside. The room is a colorful wonderland of beautifully made and ornate trinkets. Books on the wall seem to help placate a waiting tribute for the rest of their days.

I don't think I can fight it. I'm not a trainee from the academy, not like they do any better. I'm definitely not from the streets. I'm a twig, like every other tribute ahead of me besides a fluke or two. Our drought of victors isn't going to help reputations, and I'm not going to get any sponsors.

As the door opens I am flung into the hallway with my District partner. He's already pretty tall for a 12 year old, he could be a street child, but in my time working the streets I have not seen him, so maybe he's a factory worker or a school child. REally though, he could be anyone. When we are taken to sleek and beautiful trains I'm not sure what to think of it.

The beauty of the train is more than eclipsed by the fact that it's very much a permanent coffin driving us to our burial grounds. The shine of the light against my eyes hurts and I have to close it when we get pretty close. There's signs of a storm ahead, but I hope that I can wear it out.

 _Jensen Allard, 12 years old, Spoilsport_

 _Goodbyes_

Most of the boys around me didn't even pretend to be sad that I was gone. A good chunk of then didn't even bat an eye that I was about to be dying in a little over a week. I think that they'll get what's coming for them. But I don't know how it'll happen. I kind of wish I was there to see it, but I know I cannot.

My tears have finally dried when I walk into the goodbye room and wait for any visitors. I don't think that I have made many friends if any, so with any luck, my mother will be the only one here.

My prediction comes true when my mother walks in lost and confused before finding me and clinging to support. "Why?!" she half wails.

"I-I don't-" I can't explain it. It's just some luck that I was thrown into the games. "Mom, It was some stupid luck. There weren't going to be any volunteers, they said that a lot during school, and I guess I just have to try my best."

"I can't lose you. You are all that your father left me. Please, Jensen, just do your best. It's a longshot but victories are built off of long shots…"

I guide her to a sofa and wait with her, just holding her hand as she slowly shivers. BEfore long she has me doing it too. We wait for the door to open. "You've gotten so tall. I'm so proud of you."

"I love you mom, you can live on your own, I believe in you. And I'll do my best to keep watching, okay?"

She nods timidly. She isn't used to the kind of emotional support that I'm giving her. Hell, it may even be the first time she's heard this, especially with no father around to cradle her.

The door swings open and mom shoots up, casting a forlorn glance back at me before she is taken out of my sight. I have 3 seconds to breath before two kids run into the room, hugging me tightly. "We don't' have time to talk. If the others see us talking, we'll get pummeled," Hector explains. "Sorry to say but you don't have the largeset fanbase out there.

"WE'll be rooting for you," Jasinta explains. "Just try your best. 12 year olds have come back. So just give it your all."

"Don't be too sad if I die okay? But thank you. It means more than you think."

"Hey, none of the careers have ever made it out of a quell, so maybe it's our lucky year. Just think about it, please."

"Please," Hector echoes. The Door opens and they go out, having taken a valuable minute off of my time, not that I'm sad or anything.

 _Maybe,_ Yeah. I can do this. I can make it home, but it's going to be hard. I'm just hoping that not much will change when I'm gone.

* * *

 **Hey Guys, hopps here**

 **Sorry for the slightly shorter and slightly delayed chapter. I hope that the two submitters, PeonyPierce for Lenora Cotton and Elim9 for Jensen Allard, appreciate what I did for their characters. They wre complex looks at the nihilistic world of District 8 and while I don't like Nihilism, I hope I did well.**

 **Anyways, short note this time because school has started blah blah blah, so this may not be edited. Sorry, but I hope you like this chapter**

 **SPONSOR!**

 **1\. What is Jensen's lesson about? (4 points)**

 **2\. Where does Lenora like waiting after her shift is over? (4 points)**

 **3\. What color are Irquadia's wings? (2 points)**

 **Bonus: What color are Calieron's feathers? (1 point) Which Fanfiction does Irradia reference when she screams WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING YOU MOTHERFUKERS?! (1 point) Fill in the blank- There's no place I'd rather be _ (just for fun)**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	14. Reaping, Energetic Charges

_**Reaping: Energetic Charges**_

 _Nidawi Sebille, 17 years old, Coddler_

 _2.5 weeks before reaping_

 **The large window air conditioner in Anita Breeze's room draws 11 amps of current. The unit runs for 8.0 hours during the course of a day. Determine the quantity of charge that passes through Anita's window AC during these 8.0 hours.**

The curtain to my small room flutters roughly and I turn my head sharply at the noise. "EAse up Nidawi," Artair says calmly. "I just said that food's ready for us. You didn't reply so I wanted to check in on you."

"I'm doing fine," I reply a bit impatiently. I look down at my homework, the answer of 3.2 x 10^5 Coulombs easily flying to the the paper, and fill it in the blank. "I'm going to finish up 3 more problems. I'm that good right now, so let me be."

Artair nods patiently and waits outside my door for me. I look down at my worksheets and fill out the last three in a quick pace. I'm about to slide in my worksheets into a folder for the day after tomorrow when Artair again opens the curtain. "I SAID I'LL BE OUT!" I shout harshly.

He laughs lightly and slowly closes the curtain, hastily whispering an apology. Right now I hear more of the others waking up from their partitioned rooms and realize that I probably woke them up. Damnit. I'm sure to get chewed out by them for dinner. I slide my folder into my bag and slowly open the curtain to our common room. "Glad to see you out," Artair says with a wink. "Dinner's ready and I'm sure you're hungry."

Like always I pull out one of our small tables from Artair's room and slide it in the center. I fold 5 blankets into neat and flexible chairs and have them surround the table. "Need me to do anything?" a timid voice asks me. I turn to the owner, a tall but meek 12 year old named Newtonia Cakvie asks.

"I've got it covered, thanks for asking. Just get the others ready alright?" I tell her. She nods kindly and walks off to the 'bedrooms' to rile the others up and maybe clean things up. I look at the table in front of me and straighten it out just a smidgen before Artair whips out the dishes to put on the table. The other 2, a blond 16 year old boy named Michael Rota, and a dark redhead named Bonnell Litwack.

"Food looks nice," Michael says hungrily. "Thanks again Artair."

"Not a problem," Artair replies. "Just dig into your portion. Come on Nidawi, you too."

I take a seat around the table at the only empty spot and rest with my hands on the table, comfortable at the low lying table compared to my other tall friends. "I see that grin on your face, Nidawi," Bonnell says through her stutter. "Find the one thing that being short helps you with?"  
"Could be it be for once that you are actually jealous of my height?"

"I'm just trying to eat good ma'am," she says mockingly. "Besides it's not that much of an issue for me. Is that right Michael?"

We turn to the tallest of us, Michael, as he shifts uncomfortably close to Artair. "Well they say height isn't everything. But it is comfortable," he grumbles.

Dinner goes by without any other hitches and Newtonia passes the time by telling us a bunch of jokes from a book she picked up a while ago. Dinner ends while we all have a beaming smile on our face. Michael and Bonnell both go to their rooms while Newtonia plays on the floor with one of her few toys from the orphanage. "Heading out Artair?"

"Yep. Night cleaning needs to be done. I'll also be checking in on the errands so that way we don't need to starve. Unless you'll be willing to do that," he replies.

"Definitely. Is it too much to handle right now? I can drag Michael or the others along. Maybe just Michael."

"Just michael, I don't think more than 2 of you are needed," he explains as he puts on his jacket. It's old and worn but fits him nicely. He pulls out a list of supplies, some for our main group and some for us in the attic. "I'll head down first and when Michael finishes what he's doing then you guys can go ahead."

"I'll see you in a couple of hours then," I wave him off. He opens the hatch to the attic and goes down the ladder. I look at the list and pull out our envelope of spare cash under a dresser. Michael slides out of his room already dressed in his sleeveless sleepshirt and a pair of shorts. Nights get hot in the attic and his attire is usually one I've seen in the orphanage.

"Artair left?" He asks.

"Yeah," I say, folding up the list. "Want to come with me? I need help with the errands."

"Artair's orders?"

"Yeah, his orders," I reply. He slips on a pair of shoes that doesn't need socks and races up to me.

"I'm coming along. We need some stuff and hopefully he's got it." I hold the hatch open and we let Newtonia take care of closing up shop before we leave. "He's coming back right?" Michael warily asks.

As I begin to nod my head I notice a look of joy in his eyes when he realizes he's coming home. _Maybe...no…_ "Let's head down to the bakers. We need to pay their rent first of all," I say. He tags along silently and a bit clumsily, but we continue the errands like we normally do.

 _Jon Cheris, 14 years old, Elitist_

 _1 week before reaping_

"So for the last day of school you've taken all of us to the factory?" I ask suspiciously. "So how is this going to be different?"

"It's a different factory, let me tell you. And besides, we've only gotten to the fifth floor last time. We're all going to the ninth floor. Of course, if any of you guys want to chicken out, you can go with Veena and Lindall home if you want to," Artair says.

The dozen of us look around the group, unwilling to back down and ready to take this adventure by the horns. The oldest of us, a girl named Nidawi, looks at Alaina and nods, readily agreeing with her as they split the load of our picnic. "Come on then," Yusef, one of the closest to me out of all of us readily says.

The route to the factory is a long one, taking a trolley past the hydroelectric coast for District 5 past three of the generator houses down a rocky dam. After we all see the rocky dam, the trolley stops and we continue on our route to the tall factory. It's a smaller factory, meant for the abandoned town next to it.

"Looks like an obsolete model, don't you think?" Jenica notes. "Maybe it just was for this region, maybe electricity through direct current?"

"Oh yeah, it's your first time here, isn't it?" I ask. As she nods her head in understanding, I continue. "It's just for an old style of working, we read about this in school. Apparently it used to be something of a model for the Capitolitans to see, and then the models got better and better for pictures to be seen in textbooks and newspapers."

"Oh. So why do we still have pictures like that in our textbook? It seems stupid to me."

"Because the Capitol is stupid," Hans chimes in. I nod in agreement, knowing that our father doesn't think highly of the capitol's way of teaching the citizens. I turn to my older sister, Alaina, as she moves closer to Artair.

I look further ahead at the abandoned factory as the sun glints highly. Most of our parents usually expect us back by sundown so judging by its position we should have a fair bit of time left to explore the massive expanse. "Ready to go?" I ask.

The others nod in compliance; Jenica a bit more wary but definitely excited, and Yusef surprisingly with a thoughtful look on his face before he nods. Artair walks with Alaina and Nidawi at the front of the pack, guiding us to the covered doorway. It empties out into a collapsed portion of the factory that forms a massive courtyard where rubble has made something of a ramp to the higher levels.

As I'm fourth in the line of us climbing up the pile, I keep passing glances behind me to see Yusef holding onto Jenica as she finds her footing behind the rest of us. Oris and Vern find themselves spreading along the side of the rubble, but otherwise have been doing alright. Delancy, Veena, and Hans are all keeping pace with me as we go up to the second story.

Our little secluded room is only several yards away from us when we reach the top of the heap. I open the door quietly and wait for the others to pile in, following just after Jenica slowly shuffles in, looking around our makeshift clubhouse with a curious awe. Oris and Vern pull out several chairs from a notch in the wall and set them up in a circle as we normally do. I sit in between Yusef and Ariana, with Hans and Nidawi across from us. Ariana and Artair first bring out the sandwiches and hand them around the circle. Ariana is the one who brings out the drinks and hands them off to us. "Water again?" Lindall quietly asks.

"Shut up, I know you crave this," Artair snaps. "Besides, we have carbonated drinks for dessert, so eat up."

"Ok," Lindall says defeated.

It's a while of silence as we savor the sandwiches before Yusef manages to speak up. "Guys…" he drones. "I uhh, I realized something the other day and it's been on my mind for a while."

"What is it?" Nidawi asks kindly, setting her sandwich on her lap. "You can tell us."

He pulls out his deck of cards and holds it in his hands as he takes something of a shaky breath. "I realized… I was talking to one of the kids at school and I felt a little flutter...for him. Yeah, It's weird, I know. But I've felt that same flutter when talking to guys like him, like Artair but closer to my age. Yeah. I don't know, but I've never felt that flutter to girls…"

He trails off mid sentence and glances down at the cars as he pulls them out of his box. I put a hand on his shoulder and he looks up with cautious and fearful eyes. "That doesn't change the fact that you're my best friend. If it makes you feel better, I think I like guys and girls."

Yusef flashes an awkward smile as Artair walks behind him and pats his back roughly. "As if we'd get rid of you for that, you're still Yusef." The others around the group show no other issues like me an Artair and seem to agree with the two of us. "Come on, Let's play some of those card games you said you learned. It isn't that big of a deal, right Jon?"

"No, Not at all," I say quietly. The others all say words of encouragement and comfort him to the best of their ability. I clear a swatch of floor in front of me and call him to sit down. "Let's talk about cards, ok? I know you like that."

"Thanks Jon. It's not much, but it's cool." The others slowly put their food on their chairs as Artair scoops the carbonated drinks into his hands. "Twelve of us this time, so that divides not as evenly I think. Everyone start off by taking four cards. Let's have the older 4 get an extra one."

We divide the cards impatiently and Yusef continues. "Whoever has an ace of spades starts us off by putting that down face up… The name of the game is cow poop. You have to get rid of all of your cards but the others can call your bluff. So if you want to put down…"

After all his talk of rules, me, Jenica, and Hans all pull a win before he decides to pack it up and go home. It's a calm day, but a good day, and I can't wait for more.

 _Piper Leriz, 18 years old, District 5 Female Mentor, Victor of Hunger Games 148_

 _Reaping day_

Skip. Skip. Skip. Skip. Four that time. The rock I held was about 4 centimeters in diameter and about half an inch thick. I grab another one and hear it ripple across the water one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight times. The stone was 5 centimeters and a quarter inch thick, and plenty smooth.

I look down at my watch and see that it reads 12:30 capitol time. Right now it's just 9:30 in the morning. The Reapings are set about 30 minutes apart capitol time but that results in a fair bit of unorthodox start points for the District. I drop from the tree and scatter the stones along the forest as I make my way back home.

I arrive at the reaping with 10 minutes to spare. I'm swamped by a complaining escort. He strides up, all 5' 3" of in, fuming red enough that it shows in his ugly blue face. I pay him no mind and stride up to the stage, taking my seat as one of District 5's 3 living victors. Like my mentor, I won on a fluke. Flukes haven't been kind to District 5.

Emmeline Utral won in the last century of the Hunger Games after missing out on her final battle when an earthquake trapped her in one of the arena's many cabins. Jolt Stasius considers himself the most forgettable of the victors, and he's happy about that. He won on a 5, made 2 kills, and like Emmeline missed out on the finale. This time the mutts separated him.

I'm the only living 5 victor to make it to the finale. I...was an upset. The beautiful District 1 girl and the studly District 4 boy were much better victors. I was told that I didn't deserve to cheer and laugh and be happy because all I did was slit the 1 girl's throat in a cowardly move. It wasn't fun.

So now I sit, emotionlessly on the stage, and wait for the mayor to finish speaking. He signals to start the propaganda film. In the 15 minutes I dwell on the only victor to survive the 'curse of District 5'. While Mullen Jolts was the victim of an intolerable crime, Barbara Gentrix always felt the presence of lizards, Vedits Montclif lost her child 2 decades later in the arena, Jumper Dumrang became a perpetrator of an intolerable crime, and Alejandro Yustriv never felt hot again, Hellion Darsi made it out of the arena as a crowd favorite to his loving boyfriend and died in his arms just last year.

Our escort, Oompa Clision, moves onstage and replaces our mayor with 2 overstuffed reaping bowls. District 5 murmurs slightly and Oompa makes no effort to quell them. He calls up the girl, Nidawi Sebille, and the incredibly short girl stands on stage, shorter than even Oompa. She doesn't even look like she cracks 5 feet. She's crying. Nidawi is bound to be broken sometime soon.

Jon Cheris is the boy and he stumbles onstage dumbfounded. His forehead begins to shine with sweat but he still looks forward and does not cry. He looks at the girl with a mutual look of worry, and they obviously know each other.

As Oompa brings the ceremony to a close, already I see about a dozen people of reaping age fight their way to the stage only to be held off by peacekeepers. The ceremony ends and both Jon and Nidawi are taken inside.

"Some reaping huh?" Jolt tries to make conversation.

"I would guess so. It is a quarter quell and I sincerely doubt that our District stands a marginal chance this year even with the present twist," I explain monotonously.

He tilts his head and goes downstairs to greet his daughter. I look at the train station and reluctantly walk to it, holding my hand in front of the shining piece of metal.

 _Jon Cheris, 14 years old, Elitist_

 _Goodbyes_

I exchange a fearful look with Nidawi just as we arrive to the goodbye rooms. "Can't we share a room?" Nidawi asks. "I need to talk to him."

"Can't give an advantage," one of the peacekeepers mumbles. "And you'll have plenty of time to talk when the games begin."

His much larger cohort pushes me into my room past the doors and does the same to Nidawi mere moments later. I dust myself off and check myself in the mirror. I wipe the beads of sweat that have shown up on my brow and take a seat on the couch, patiently waiting for the others to show up.

Dad almost knocks down the door when he comes in. He's the most angry I've ever seen him and he stops short of punching the wall before he breaks down in tears. He settles for taking his anger out on a mirror that cuts his knuckles. Mom isn't that much happier. She has to keep her balance by leaning against Alaina's shoulders.

"Mom, Dad, Alaina, Hans," I whisper, a bit out of breath. "Thank you for coming."

"NO!" Hans whines. "Why'd it have to be you?! Why?!"  
"Hans," I interject. "It'll be fine. I'll take care of myself. I might not be here again but you need to keep yourself together, okay?"

He whimpers and nods before I face Alaina. She presses her forehead against mine and whispers that the others will be after us. "I'll see Nidawi too. Just don't give up, and try your best," she chokes out. "Uhh, we know you're smart, and this won't faze over. So get yourself up and active, and just uhh, try your damndest. We'll keep all of us sturdy at home.

I nod solemnly and rest my head in my hands just as my dad, calmed down but still fairly angry, hugs me in a group hug with mom and my siblings. "You're smart Jon, I know you can make your way out of it. Do it for us at least."

I nod tiredly just as the peacekeepers open the doors and guide them out of the room.

To my shock it's only Artair and Yusef who shows up. "We drew cards to see who got to say goodbye," Yusef shakingly says. "I'm-I don't want you to die."

"I don't either," Artair speaks up. "But look, I know you and I know what a wide renaissance teen you are. Just don't let it faze you like it normally doesn't and well, we'll see you back."

Shakily, Yusef pulls out a bracelet and slips it on my finger. It's less than half a centimeter wide and just has a line of rainbow beads on it. "Alaina wanted to give it to you."

I immediately go silent just as Yusef wraps me in a long hug. I rest my head on his shoulder and wrap my arms around his back, slowly breathing as the reality sinks in. Artair ruffles both of our heads and jokes about me getting rid of that bowl cut. I smile tiredly just as the door opens and both of them walk out. "Thank you…" I hastily whisper.

I'm barely alone for five minutes when I'm half dragged out of the room into the air. I face Nidawi with the same look I've had for a long while. _Is it weird that I'm not worried?_ I ask myself. I have little time to dwell on the answer before we step out into the light, surrounded by tight security.

 _Nidawi Sebille, 17 years old, Coddler_

 _Goodbyes_

"Can't we share a room?" I ask one of the peacekeepers. "I need to talk to him."

"Can't give an advantage," one of the peacekeepers mumbles. "And you'll have plenty of time to talk when the games begin."

His much larger cohort pushes Jon into his room beyond the doors and does the same to me mere moments later. I collect myself from the floor and sit on the bed with my head on my hands. The door opens quickly and I kneel on the floor as Artair and my other roomates walk in.

Michael stands by Artair anxiously as Bonnel and Newtonia begin to cry. I invite them all in for a hug. "Try your best to make it out," Artair speaks up, gesturing widely. "You have all of us waiting for you if you come back."

He attaches a blue and white bracelet to my wrist and hugs me tightly. Michael twiddles with his fingers. I make eye contact with him as he gazes awkwardly at Artair, holding his head high but overall is very nervous.

Bonnell and Newtonia give me hugs, promising to take care of the attic, and that's the last I hear of them before the peacekeepers pulls them out. Michael sighs loudly and follows Artair with a heavy step. The three of them are soon replaced by Alaina Cheris, Jenica, Veena, Vern and Otis.

It's a bit hard to hear myself think as they all clamor around in various states of worry. "JUST SHUT IT!" I shout loudly. I take a deep breath as I look at my friends, realizing that some of them are probably saying goodbye to Jon right now. "I'm sorry… I just don't know how it is. I don't know…"

Alaina is surprisingly the first to give me a hug. "Hey, I want you to try your best. I'm rooting for you and Jon for a while. You can do it. Don't let the curse strike."

That last statement brings a chuckle out of me and Jenica. I look at the young girl as she steps forward, patting my shoulder. "Artair says we'll be watching you for a while. Nothing much will happen, but he'll take care of us. He has to, he says."

"I'll come back if only not to leave him with that burden. I'll miss you guys," I choke out.

Otis and Vern hold hands as they walk to me. "We'll see you out, you or Jon. we don't want you to perish," Otis says apprehensively. "Vern and I like your sandwiches, and besides, 4'9" isn't that short."

I lightly chuckle but the worries are now placed on my frail and small physique. The shortest victor was the first District 10 victor, a girl named Trusty Compton. Short girls aren't held in the highest in regards, but there are few exceptions. "Yeah, you can definitely do this. Just help Jon out along the way if he needs it," Vern chimes in.

"Thanks guys, it means a lot," I say a bit tiredly.

I have time for a brief hug from all of them before the door swings open, taking them out. I wave goodbye wearily just as the door closes. I'm alone with my thoughts, and all I can ask myself is "How can I get out of this?"

* * *

 **Hey guys, Hopps here**

 **So I'm sorry for the while without an update. It was a while to create this chapter, much longer than I think it should have. But school has been creeping up on me and I'm slowly succumbing to the worries of Junior year. Man do I miss sophomore year. To those of you who aren't reviewing, please do, I know I'm not keeping track of the sponsor points well, but if you can all keep track that would help me so much. Let's thank Golden Moon huntress for both Jon and Nidawi, and to you, Golden Moon Huntress, if I failed, please tell me, but thank you so much for your input (it was hard creating a chapter for the both of them that highlighted their uniqueness.**

 **Sponsor Questions:**

 **1\. What is the answer to Nidawi's physics problem? (4 points)**

 **2\. What is the name of the game Yusef introduces? (4 points)**

 **3\. Describe the curse of District 5 (2 points)**

 **Bonus:**

 **a. Name one of Jon's siblings (1 point)**

 **b. Name one of Nidawi's roommates (1 point)**

 **For fun: What is the savage making drug in Zootopia? (foreshadowing)**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	15. Reaping, Infinite Waves

_**Reaping: Infinite Waves**_

 _Regan Attwater, 18 years old, Flirt_

 _7 days before the reaping_

"Game over," I say with a smirk, pinning my opponent to the ground with a dagger at his neck. Really it isn't my favorite weapon but anything does against a guy like him. I move the dagger off of him and help him up, patting him on his back. "Don't overextend too much, come on, I've seen you better with close range weapons like this, but you have to grow with your spacing issues."

Scyllon Aqueon gets up with a grunt and begrudgingly shakes my hand. He's 17 years old, probably going to volunteer the next year, but already is bitter and anti-social. "Plan on it," he grumbles, joining his equally sullen girlfriend. I roll my eyes as I stretch out my joints. I catch both Castellia and Kyle walking into this part of the Aqueduct and wave them over.

"Looks like you had a good victory," Castellia notes. I flash a wink at her as she looks back in boredom. Already one of the trainers monitoring along the wall flashes a gaze at my behavior, but continues to take notes for the rest of the other trainees. I hop down from the raised fighting platform and greet Kyle by blowing a kiss in his direction. Like always he fake swoons and Castellia rolls her eyes.

"Your grandparents stopped by, they said that they saw you handling the kids great," Kyle replies. He's always had a bit of a lisp to him but his voice is still somewhat deeper than mine. "Anyways what are the states of my oh so mighty best friend?"

"Check out the board yourself," I reply, nonchalantly whipping off my shirt. It's common for both genders to take off their shirts when training on days like this, and frankly, there's a lot of good looking bods to go around. "Take off your shirt, you'll find me quicker that way," I joke.

He nods his head with a stifled chuckle after looking over my frame. "Hold up, found your stats. Six pack, one ab per foot of height, powerful legs for holding ground, wide shoulders, built like a hunk, plays like a tank, and in a deliciously sexy package," Kyle jokes.

"Welp, that's entirely accurate. What does the dear who guessed it all 100% want for their prize?"

"Come on guys, keep it to your houses. I know Marco and Cerulean didn't want to see you just making out with your boyfriend," Castellia snarks.

Flabbergasted a shade of red begins to appear on my face and I hear Kyle slowly whisper, "He's not my boyfriend yet." I jump up and swing my arms around the two of them as I guide them out of this gymnasium with my backpack over my shoulders. In the open aired semi circle that makes most of the Aqueduct, I see victor Bruce Chardon teaching little Dory to do push-ups alongside a gang of rookies.

"He's going to overwork that little cutie," Castellia comments. We walk briskly past the other buildings into the small but well kept media room. I pull out 2 recliners for the three of us and encourage them to sit as I pull out some footage.

"Regan Attwater," the receptionist says politely. "Please put your name and what film you want to see."

I hurriedly scribble down the footage for Gerald Montoya's year and Kyrenia Lorfous' year. Hunger Games 132 and Hunger Games 133. They've always been hard years to watch, but today I'm going to watch past the points I know will sting. The man at the desk gives me the 2 older films and wishes me luck in viewing them.

The tapes have labels that show not just the victors' years, but those of District 4's tributes. I pop the film with the label that designates 2 volunteers-Myles Shelshock, 18 years old Male, Volunteer; and Azura Hyllock, 16 years old Volunteer. I plop onto Kyles' lap and wait for the film to start up.

I lean my head into Kyle's shoulders as I fast forward the footage to the ninth night, 4 days before the finale. The final eight's interviews with his girl who had just given birth, Tsunami Attwater, are overlaced upon his failed assassination of the District 1 contender. Myles shoots up in the night and throws a shuriken into the District 1 boy's neck. I wince as the cannon fires and the boy from District 9 and the girl from District 1 shoot up to find one of their allies dead and my father wide awake.

His death isn't pretty and though he did cause an infection that killed the girl from District 1 in the next eight hours, he had no way of surviving the internal decapitation from the boy from District 9. I turn off the footage with a sigh just as Castellia pops in the tape. "You okay?" Kyle asks with his voice muffled.

"Don't worry, I'm fine," I chuckle. "Thanks for putting the tape in Cassie."

She nods her head and stands behind my recliner as the footage plays. I fast forward the bit where not just Tsunami Attwater but a young 15 year old boy named Duma Zofist are called out of the reaping ball. Castellia fast forwards through the footage and takes me to day 15 of day 20. Five days before the finale.

Mom is locked in heated combat with the District 7 girl. They shake hands before the battle begins, having been allies and close friends before the break up of their alliance. At the very least when my mom goes down, she goes down with a smile before the 7 girl buries an axe through her chest. Mom whispers words of advice to the 7 girl, and dies with a gentle smile on her face as the 7 girl cries on.

It's a tough scene as well but I'm not letting my tears fall, even if Kyle usually lets me. "All the more reason to fight for," Castellia says optimistically.

"Not gonna let that get down, gotta fight for the both of them, you know?"

"I know," Kyle and Castellia say at the same time. "Return the books and how about I see you wrestle for a while?" Kyle asks.

"Not a problem," I say with a light wink. I place a both hand on his shoulders as he piggy backs me out of the media room, leaving Castellia to contend with the bureaucracy. I guide him to the outdoor wrestling ring, where the terrain looks to be dead branches and ash this time, and get off of him. A girl stands in the center of the arena, obviously her first time doing this in a while.

"Should I fight you?" she asks timidly.

"Look, if you want a chance at the arena, you'd better. And look at you, 5'8, 5'9? Timid words won't help you that much." As I step into the ring she looks me over and kind of goes pale. "Aren't you one of those seventeens?" I snap my fingers for a bit as the name crawls to me. "Yangste?"

She blushes at me remembering her name but puts on a focused face as she enters a fighting stance. The bout begins and ends almost immediately as she throws a clumsy punch towards my head. I grab her wrist and flip her on the ground. "Come on, I saw you as one of the better trainees," I say as I look at her from above. "What got you this time?"

"Nerves," she asks confused. She lightly giggles and pulls herself up. "Any tips?"

With a sigh I tell her to keep her body close and tight, guiding her hands together. The scoffs around me from the boys are clearly audible but I just shake it off like usual. As I demonstrate how easy it is to sweep a tall person off of their knees, she lands an uneasy kick against the back of my knees. I fall to the ground in pain but flash a smile. "Just do that more confidently and you'll be in fighting shape."

I look off to the left and find my grandparents, smiling as they look on lovingly. One of the pigheads in the spectators jumps in the ring and tries to kick me in the head. I roll on the ground as one of his friends tries to grab my arms. I break free of the hold and push him out of the boundaries, trying to focus on just the pighead who tried to kick me. He's 16 or 17, I've seen him around the academy lifting weights. He's probably stronger than his girlfriend, at a respectable 6' as well.

I land a solid blow to his tough stomach and he recoils just enough for me to grab his head and throw him into a branch. He gets up with a bloody nose and charges angrily at me, but I dodge and just trip him. He falls again and I pick him up by his shirt and throw him out. With a sigh I turn to my sparring partner only to find that she's gone to comfort her boyfriend. "All duels are one on one unless strictly agreed upon by the sparring partners," I say defensively, backing up. I take a glance back at my grandparents and see them watching with loving eyes, feeling a tint of red flush to my face.

 _Kimberly McAuckswatch, 16 years old, Rescuer_

 _Five days before Reaping_

It's so close I can feel it within my grasp. Even with my goggles pressing at my face I continue to dive under with the bag tightly taut around my wrist. Three seashells, 4 mussels, and a lump of seaweed in a circle. It's exactly where Nodra said she lost her necklace. Why people wear jewelry into the ocean I never know, but as rich as she is, her wealth is 65% tied to that necklace.

The silver chain gives it away easily among the ocean. Satisfied I secure a tight hold on the piece of jewelry and pull the emergency cord. I take a breath as my head breaks surface and begin to swim to shore, not easy with the inflatable bag on my wrist. I lumber out of the water and shake my hair as I begin to find Nodra.

"You found it?!" she asks incredulously. I find her at a sea shack munching on fried prawn and drinking a carbonated drink.

"Got it. Training for the academy when you lost it, right?"

"Embarrassingly enough," she sheepishly replies. A snicker comes from who she's sitting with. "Shut up, I've seen you do worse," Nodra directs. "Want a french fry?"

"Alright," I reluctantly say, if only to sit at the table. I wave politely to the snickerer, Nodra's girlfriend Estia, our best friend Kerri, and Kerri's boyfriend Gilbert. I run my hand through my sopping wet hair and tie it in a rough ponytail. Gilbert slides a plate of fries under my hands and I lightly prod at one.

"Wanna train today?" Kerri asks. "Or is your dad trying to keep you in for another lifeguard duty?"

"Actually you're lucky to have gotten out of there when you did," Gilbert perks up. "Everyone else is hunkering down for a tropical storm-we're this shop's last customers. I don't think your father would have you out in the ocean."

"I sure hope not. Kerri isn't this far away from the academy and your home? Gilbert where is the storm?"

"Beats me," he says nonchalantly. "Relatively close to here, so we shoudl get packed up."

"Shit," I say. "Come on, stay with us. It's not much, but you can't be walking in this kind of weather."

Nodra and Gilbert nod immediately, standing up with their partner's hands tightly locked. I sneak a tiny bite from one of the french fries before heading out the door first. The winds are already starting to pick up and the rain has started to lightly drizzle. A boy runs on the streets hopelessly lost. A girl about his age tuns up and cries with him. Kerri runs up to them with a hand on both of their shoulders but they don't seem to stop crying.

I run up to join them and notice them shivering. I encourage the rest of them to continue to my house, sliding them my key before I bend down to the kids. "Can you tell me your name?"

"I'm...I'm Declan.." the boy whispers. "She's Florell. She's my sister and she's 3. I'm seven. We don't know where our parents are." The little girl nods and begins to cry.

"Where would they be now?"

"I-I think that they'd be at the McAuckswatches. Everytime it gets like this they go over and drop off some stuff. Do you know where that is?" Declan asks through sniffles.

"Let's go. I know where that is, I live there."

The two look at me in awe before I take them both by the hand. The wind is picking up so I quicken our pace before we arrive on our porch. Hastily I knock on the door before the girl starts crying again. "Declan, do you know what happened?" I ask.

"H-H-Her bag. She had a toy fish in there and she loves it. It might have been on the beach," he whimpers.

I look behind me past the rain and see something tumbling in the distance. As soon as the door opens I push the two of them inside and run off the porch. At random intervals I lose my balance and almost eat sand before I make it to the general vicinity of the purple and pink bag. I make a hasty dive for it just as the rain picks up. I hold my hand to my eyes and make a blind dash to the porch, stumbling on debris and rain before finally crawling up the steps.

A woman sees me at the door and pulls me in. I breathe heavily before sitting myself up, locking the door tightly and shuttering the windows. For a house of this caliber, we've built it dangerously close to the sea. The woman returns to the two kids and hugs them tightly. "Oh, Ma'am?" I ask. She lifts up her head and walks to me. "Is this your daughter's bag?"

"Yes," she says enthusiastically. "Where'd you find it?"

"It was tumbling in the wind. I'm so glad that you and your children are reunited," I say sincerely.

"I frankly should be thanking you. Karen Dorserly."

"Kimberly McAuckswatch. Do you want to wait the storm out here?"

"If you would. Your father and my husband are out doing a sweep, so they should be back momentarily. We hope we aren't intruding."

"No, not at all. Just make yourselves comfortable. We have some board games and cards for your leisure." I take a deep breath and walk out the room, waving kindly to the Dorserlies.

"Kim," Mom speaks quietly. "Your friends are upstairs and we've pulled out the extra beds. The weather report says that the storm will pass by tomorrow. Don't worry _anak_."

"Yes _Nanay_ ," I say, using my old term for her. It's commonplace but I like using little niches here and there. Feeling tired I go up to my lofty bedroom, passing by my brother's room as I hear the sounds of wrestling through his door. I'm about to step foot into my bedroom before I take a sharp turn into the bathroom I share with Lorcus.

I hover over the porcelain toilet for what seems to be too long, kneeling while I tremble and force the waste out of my system. It's not much to come out in chunks today but slips through almost like string. I breathe heavily before washing out my mouth. I plaster on a smile as I stride confidently into my room, large enough to share with four of my friends.

"Took you a while, you look dreadful," Nodra comments.

"Come on, I'm fine Neblina. Just let me get dressed, so Gillian if you could…"

There's a bit of an awkward silence before Kerri asks "Who're Neblina and Gillian?"

"Oh, sorry. Sorry Nodra, Gilbert. But I do mean it that you have to turn Gilbert. Come on, talk about something, like training or animals. I've got books for a reason."

I hear the sounds of rustling as I rifle through my drawer. The top I pick is still a bit too tight around the stomach but according to Kerri, I'm fine in clothes like this. I slip out of my pair of swim pants and put on a tight fitting pair of comfy shorts. I plop in the middle of my circle of friends with a pillow at my chest, endlessly exchanging stories while the storm wages on.

I hear mom squeal excitedly when the door opens and dad stomps in. I'll be sure to ask him what to do later. "Hey, what's for dinner, if you're willing to provide it?" Gilbert asks.

"Not much, pork chops based on what mom had in the kitchen," I say with a nonchalant flick of the wrist. "Also some carbonated drink if you want that."

"Fuck yeah I want that," Kerri excitedly says. "Not everyday you can drink a drink as good as that."

We all chuckle at her outburst and decide to go for dinner right there. Kerri hops on all 6' 2" of Gilbert while Nodra and Estia hold hands.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU MAN WHORE!" I hear as I pass my brother's room. Folllowing that outburst is a sound of something breaking-yes. I knock on the door hastily and find that it's unlocked. I see my brother on top of his friend and choking him as a look of hurt flits through their eyes.

"Lorcus, come on. Don't you think that's a bit too far?"

"None of us mind," Lorcus says quickly. "Right Lotus?"

"Nope. And besides, we're just having fun."

I give them all a stinky eye before joining my friends in the kitchen. I can hear the sounds of Lorcus being thrown to the floor and shouts as their fight continues. Dinner passes by without a snark as I hear my parents' conversation unfold. "Lorcus has still been fighting unprovoked. The trainers say he'll kill someone if he isn't careful," Mom says as quietly as usual.

"I'm worried, but I don't think he'll go that far," dad adamantly states. "I'm not letting him volunteer anytime soon. Oh!" He looks up as if he's heard me overhearing their conversation. "Kim, with the reaping so soon, while I do hope that you choose not to volunteer, I respect whatever decision you make. We've had calls that you've been a great help but a strong fighter."

"Thank you dad. I only hope I make you proud."

"Don't be silly, you've always been doing that."

I smile warmly and dig into my lightly packed plate. It's good, but I can't eat that much, as usual.

 _Dory Chardon, 3 years old, Child_

 _Reaping_

"Daddy, why can't I go to the capitol?"

Daddy is a tall man. It means that when I ride on his shoulders then I can see very very far and almost fly. "It's a work issue. Next year they want us to take you, but you have to stay at home with Mommy and the _kapamilya_."

I nod sadly and hug him tightly. Mommy grabs my hand and leads me away from him as he continues to get ready. "Mommy, why can't you go to the capitol?"

"I have my jobs here. I raise you, I go out on the sea for various voyages to help with my brothers and sisters. I also work at the market. But don't think that my most important job won't be raising you. Come on, it'll be fun with the two of us," Mommy says to make me feel better.

"Okay," I say. I grab my little rucksack and put my favorite stuffed salmon into the pocket with my favorite stuffed orca. Mommy helps me put on a pink jacket and we go out into the district. "Can we get ice cream after the reaping?"

"If we have time." I hold Mommy's hand and we go through our house and past the victor's village. The town square has a bunch of stages set up and it's open very wide. I look to the ocean and see a lot of boats. Some are big and some are small but I don't think that any of them are as big as Mommy's trawler.

She sits me on a chair and I wait as she talks to some uppity old adults. I wait with another girl but she doesn't talk. I think she's one of Tita Nymphia's sisters. Tita Anemone also has her son wait but I don't like tita Anemone as much. I wait and play with my toys as the reaping begins. I have to stand up with the others as our escort announces the thing.

Under my chair is a letter. I feel it around and it is the letter B. It's cool. The escort picks a boy first. He's 12 years old but a strong and tall volunteer shoves him off stage. The volunteer is named Regan Attwater and he looks nice.

A 13 year old girl is called but the sounds of a volunteer allows her to rest. The volunteer is liked, I know her. She's Kimberly McAuckswatch and very tall and brave. The reaping ends and both volunteers are taken into the city hall. I see Daddy on stage and I run up to hug him. I miss him, and I will miss him.

 _Kimberly McAuckswatch, 16 years old, Rescuer_

 _Goodbyes_

We know where the goodbye room is but the peacekeepers still have to lead us both into the rooms. Very few have made it back from these rooms. I can only hope that I inspire others if I fail to make it back to these rooms. Quietly I walk into the room and hear the door shut behind me. I look over at the sink and mirror combination and wash my eyes.

Yes I volunteered but it was a spur of a moment. I can only hope that I'll be remembered. I look at my reflection and trace my still slightly chubby cheekbones. I can feel the bone but I can't see it, it's there. I know it.

I put on my smile and wait for the doors to open while sitting on the plush chair. First and foremost, like I expected, are my father, mother, and Lorcus. "Kimberly McAuckswatch, several things I want to say," dad speaks up. "First and foremost, while I think that was an idiotic decision, I believe that you made what you believe as the right decision. And I will be as proud as I can."

Mom speaks up with the next point. "Second, you-you threw what you had away!" she shouts. "You were set, you were alright, and this is what you do?!"

"Mom, I couldn't do anything to see that thirteen year old go up! I didn't put my name on the 'no volunteer' list for a reason. And Dad, didn't you want me to help out? I couldn't just stand there!"

"Dad, Mom," Lorcus almost yells. "I think she made a good choice. All of the trainers are praising her and saying that she's good. She stands as good a chance as a fair bit of the others."

Mom and Dad begin to sigh before they close in on a hug. I wrap my arms around the two of them and try my best to remember their general presence for a while. "Just do your best. We'll be proud of you regardless," Dad says quietly.

"Make yourself proud this time," Mom speaks up. I feel Lorcus join in on the hug just as the peacekeepers knock at the door. The three of them all get up from the hug.

"Lorcus, just simmer down a bit okay?" I tell him just before he leaves. "Mom, Dad, I'll be thinking of you." I make a pointing gesture to my pin on the ruffle of my dress and fix it tightly again. Dad and mom leave me with loving smiles.

No sooner does the door close than it opens. Kerri shows up, mercifully alone, and she just gives me a tight hug for the remainder of the time. "I want you to keep doing what you do. Keep fighting and take care of them okay?"

Kerri doesn't reply like usual, and she wipes her tears from her eyes, and she hugs me even tighter. "I'll miss you," she chokes out. She's been my best friend for most of my life, and it'll be hard to say goodbye. But somehow I do, and she leaves with her head held high. What follows next are Nodra, Gilbert, Estian, Jullian, Guarell, and others I can't place all wishing me the best.

I take a deep breath before the peacekeepers take me out of the room. Man I can't think at all

 _Regan Attwater, 18 years old, Flirt_

 _Goodbyes_

I stride confidently into the goodbye room just as the door closes behind me. I allow my face to relax from smiling constantly and lie on the couch, staring at the ceiling for all of three seconds before my grandparents walk into the room. My grandfather, Marco Attwater, still stands at a healthy 6' 1". It's the same height as when he found the treasure chest that brought all of our family out of the water. Grandma Cerulean stands at a bold 5' 10" and kneels as she rubs her hand on my forehead. "Oh Regan, how strong you have become. Your parents would be so proud to have you," she mumbles.

"Thanks grandma. Are...Are you guys proud of me?" the question comes out a bit more hastily than I have intended but I suppose it's somewhat natural.

"Of course," grandpa says with a small smile. "We're-We're just as worried as you are. If you want to feel scared it's fine. Myles and Tsunami both felt scared here. Your uncle Deluge also wants you to know that he and his family are supporting you. They just hope that-"

"That I don't go like his little sis. It's a hard pill to swallow, but I understand. I couldn't have asked for a better pair of adoptive parents."

"And we couldn't have had as great a career grandson as you," Grandma says in her all inclusive tone like always. "We believe in you."

I put the back of my hand to their head in a show of respect and they leave with happy tears in their eyes. I catch a faint good luck from them but it's short and muted. I still wait with my head on a pillow and looking at the ceiling when the door opens and someone covers my eyes. "You look a whole lot hotter when you're sitting up or standing you know?"

"Love you Kyle, but if we're getting together when this boils over you have to accept me however I am, be it a lump or a pillar," I joke. I cup the back of his head in my hands and pull him in for a quick kiss before sitting up. "How's my hair?"

"Undercut on point, no worries," Castellia speaks up. "Sorry if I'm interrupting but I just want to say that you're a great friend. We'll hold the fort down if you need it."

I look fondly at my two best friends and invite them all in for a long group hug. "If I die, which is likely, just keep on trucking. Kyle, move on if that happens. Castellia, keep fighting, you'll be a great trainer or tribute."

"You being caring is so unlike you," Castellia comments. "Sorry, but I'm just letting it sink in. There are a lot of hearts that will be broken in District 4. We'll miss you of course."

Kyle puts his leg over mine and nestles himself into my lap. He pulls out a black graphite ring from his shirt pocket and slides it hastily on my finger. "Don't forget about me. Have a relationship in the arena if it helps you get back. I'll remember you, I hope you'll remember me."

"Kyle, why the fuck would I forget you? I love you. I won't forget you ok?"

He nods reassured and slips in one more kiss before he walks away. I catch a regretful smile from him before he leaves through the door. "I'll take care of him. Just do what's needed. He gave you permission to do what you need, but I'll keep reassuring him. Ok?"

"Okay. STay fresh out there."

"I plan to."

Once again I'm relatively alone. Some girls come in with a boy dragged in between them, wishing me luck and blabbering about me, but they're relatively inconsequential. Still they're all nice and I encourage them to keep going at it. The peacekeepers arrive shortly after and I respectfully follow them out, unsure of what the future will bring.

* * *

 **Hey guys, Hopps here**

 **So I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, I managed to get it out at a much faster rate than last time. I don't know why but I do hope that I did Oli2fab4u's Regan and Platrium's Kimberly justice. If you like these characters, have many major qualms, let me know. Districct 4 is my personal favorite district so if some bias leaked out due to it I apologize.**

 **Questions**

 **1\. When does Tsunami Attwater die in her hunger games? (4 points)**

 **2\. How does Kimberly find Nodra's Necklace? (4 points)**

 **3\. What does Dory put into her rucksack? (2 points)**

 **Bonus:**

 **Why can't Dory's Mommy go to the capitol? (2 points)**

 **Just for fun:**

 **What does Ariel from the little mermaid call a fork? (foreshadowing)**

 **Hopefully this chapter passes, and that you all like it.**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	16. Reaping, Rolling Ranches

_**Reaping: Rolling Ranches**_

 _Atticus Landry, 16 years old, Rancher_

 _20 days before reaping_

With a canteen in my hand I sit on Strider and encourage him to rest as I look down on the hill. Fields of cows, pigs, and chickens all grazing in the grass. To the northwest I see the ranch where my family all primarily works. To the North East is another ranch, a smaller one owned by a large family that's been there before the dark days, and primarily raises the poultry. Two gentle streams divide the ranches before they cut away to a dusty road.

"Attaboy Strider," I hear a deep voice say as they walk up. "How are you my son?" my dad asks.

"Good dad. I'm just going down to Mercer and Erin's house. Just stopping by to say hello and help them with the sheep."

"Sounds like a great plan," Dad says lovingly. "I'll see you off then. Take care. And if you see a cow fallen over, be sure to get help."

"Of course Dad," I reply, bending down an awkward bit to hug him. Gently I remove the burlap sack from Strider's snout and place it tightly in my leather satchel. I run my hand through his mane and encourage him to go down the hill, waving goodbye at my father as he moves down the hill.

He moves along at a steady trot but he escalates into a run as we reach the flat of the hill. I can see Mercer and Erin's house in the distance and eagerly encourage Strider to run just at a faster pace. Through rows and rows of mud and freshly eaten grass I pull Strider up to the resting post in front of the trough of hay. I hop down into a puddle, a bit miffed at muddying my boots, before walking up the porch of the main house.

I knock raptly on the door and am greeted by little Azera as she opens the door. "Hi Atty!" She says.

"Hey Azera, where's your brother and sister?" I ask quietly. It takes a quick glance around the welcome room and only see her study books open on the low table.

"They're at the trough. They're taking care of the smaller animals and they're so cute! Do you want to help me with my colors?"

"Sorry, but I have to finish some work with them. You understand, right?"

"'Kay," she says dejectedly. "I'll see you later then. Bye."

She closes the door slowly and I almost have to laugh at the sheer seriousness at her sadness, but I didn't mean to make her sad, really. She usually gets over it, so I don't worry too much. I hop on Strider and guide him to the Trough, a little valley where we let the chickens out for free time. Our family's primary product is the wool from the sheep but Mercer and Erin recently took on a job to help increase the egg productivity.

I find them gathering the eggs in the little nook of the valley. "'Lo," I quietly greet. I receive an eager wave from Erin while mercer runs up.

"Did you get taller? Come on, you know that isn't allowed," Mercer jokingly grumbles.

"If I could control our heights you know I would. Besides, my dad is naturally taller than your dad, so it's only natural," I state matter of factly. "How many more chickens do you need to feed?"

Erin jogs up and hands me a pail of chicken feed. From the looks of it, right now they have corn, canola seed, soybean, and wheat. "Those chickens on the other side of the trough need to get fed. Mercer and I need to weigh the chickens on this side. So can you feed them?"

"Of course. It's not like I have anything better to do. I have a bunch of papers for you to sign though. They're in Strider's pouch." I point over in his direction as I make my way over the Trough. Erin hastily runs up to me and drops off a set of snap peas. "What's this for?"

"Orders from the management. They gave us snap peas for a personal garden with the condition that the chickens get the ones laced with vitamins. These are them."

I nod in understanding and continue to spread out the feed. When there are some large chunks I find it easy enough to grab it in my hands and crush it to pieces. I'm sure that someone would have ground them down anyway. I scatter in a wide radius and finish the small pail quickly. I hop over the trough and put the pail with the others. "Anyways, what brings you over?" Mercer asks.

"If you must know, I came to send some papers from the sheep offices. They want our quota slightly increased," I say. I reach into my back pocket and unfold the paper and hand it both to Mercer and Erin. They look over it while pondering and hand it back to me.

"We already did that. Mom's going over there tomorrow in order to iron out the kinks. Tomorrow's also our town day, so if you guys need anything we'll get it for you," Mercer explains. I offer him and Erin a seat on strider as we make our way back to their house, to which they both decline.

"Strider's a strong lad. He's carried 2 pigs and their piglets once they birthed in the woods. It's really no problem," I try to justify. They both politely shake their heads and we move onward down the main road.

"Anyhoo," Erin starts. "I was told that the rabbits at farmer McKay's farm are getting a bit much, and not a lot of people are buying rabbits for their meat due to the reaping being this month. I got approval to help him for 3 hours, in exchange for two bags of flour and 2 bags of corn. He said I can get one extra of each if I bring a friend."

"Why not ask Mercer-wait where'd he go?"

"I'm right beside you!"

"Sorry, didn't see you there," I joke, lightly smiling at his rage. He grumbles at being the average of 5' 4" for guys when I'm already 5 inches taller than he is. "So why not him?"

"He has commitments elsewhere." She coughs loudly and waggles her eyebrows."And I don't think you're doing anything. You guys need corn for cornbread, don't you? Isn't it your mom's birthday soon?"

"Don't worry about us, I'm sure that we'll manage. But if it makes you feel better I'll join you if I can get the extra. But I can only stay for an hour. I'll also have to squeeze in shearing the sheep. But I'll manage."

"You know, I never understand just why we get so busy at this time of year. It's not like the lamb come from sheep."

I look at her with a confused glance and she elaborates on the sheep we have not being used for breeding. She's just about finished in her rants for Mercer to chime in, punching me solidly on my leg. "Can't believe your side of the family got the tall genes. And no, I'm not helping out McKay tomorrow, Jennifer needs help milking cows or else they'll fall behind"

"Who's Jennifer?"

His face turns a dark beet red but he elaborates. "My girl. We haven't been together for long but she and I are really clicking. You know…"

"And just how far have you guys gone?" I ask quizzically.

"She had her fingers in his shirt and his hand was on her back," Erin chimes in. "Look at you little bro, finding a girl just your size."

We walk to the ranch with a fair bit of time before my family is supposed to make it back. Their older brother Shep is rolling out the firewood and setting out the bags of tesserae. With him, I see my mom and brother helping him out. "Care to help us?" Angelo calls out to us. I jump down from Strider and wrap him in a large hug. "I'LL DROP THE GRAIN!"

"Come on Atticus, put your brother down," Mom says with a roll of her eyes. "You and the others can set the table. Dad's going to be here in a moment, and so will Jeb."

Obediently, I put my sister down and join Mercer and Erin in the race to the kitchen, sitting at the table with sweat over our brows. "Que Wow," Erin trills. The sounds of the sheep in the ranch just over yonder fade into the evening lunch/dinner as we eat,waiting for the rest of us to come up.

Dinner lasts only so long before we have to go over to our house and tuck the sheep in. It's a simple routine for me to go through. First stop by the stable and put the three horses back, then grab the bucket to use on the sheep, and finally herd the sheep into a corral for the night. Tonight we put them in sector 3 from sector 2. Tomorrow they'll go to sector 4 for the day and sector 5 for the night.

I bid goodbye to the horses in the stable and curl in my house for bed. It's a cold night, but that only means tomorrow afternoon will be even hotter.

 _Valonia Kalene, 12 years old, Spunkster_

 _16 days before Reaping_

"And that's it for today," Ms. Sheppes says. She discards the chemicals into the designated bins and slides up her lab coat. "Tomorrow you and your lab partner will do this instead with cow kidneys. Your kidneys will come from a diseased cow whereas I will demonstrate the effects on a healthy cow. Please note the differences."

Our school bell rings and we all begin packing up. "Finally, I've been looking forward to this lab since three days ago!" I say excitedly. "And who'd've thought that we'd be partners again?"

Mary smiles lightly and packs up her bags. "Gotta have fun while making labs, and well, who better than with my best friend? Besides, I just love your facial expressions when it comes to blood."

"Which is why you'll be cleaning out the blood. I'll take care of the pus."

I laugh at that statement as she carries my backpack out the class. I chase her as she turns the corner to the 10-year-olds' classroom and waits for her sister. I jump next to her and snatch the backpack out of her hands as we wait for her sister. Sarah catches sight of us just as a pair of heavy hands places themselves on me and Mary's shoulders. "Ready for the club?"

I turn around and meet our best friend, Austin, as his arms wrap around both of our shoulders. Not long after, both Sarah and my brother Percy meet up with us. "Look I can't go with you guys today. Me and Percy are cooking tonight. And Mom wants some bread to go along," I explain.

I shuffle to Percy as Austin waves us off. I turn to Percy and hold his hand as we go down the main steps. "Bread. So we're going to the main town center or just the general store?"

"General Store. I didn't pack too much money today, just enough to pay what gets put on our tabs," I explain. Going down the steps, we see some of the richer kids get on their horses and ride off home. Being in the middle class we have to walk, but I'm grateful we can attend school for this year. When we reach the general store, Percy trips over an old board, earning the laughter of a passing girl on horseback. "Just leave her, Perce, we have some chores."

He sighs loudly and walks into the store. It's slowly beginning to fill with customers, and I tell Percy to wait in line as I look for some more spools of thread. I smooth out my list and hold it to the light, deciphering what it was my mom wrote down. _3 spools of black thread, 1 spool of white thread, one small bag of sugar, half a bag of coffee, one toy for each of my kids_. "Nia!" Percy calls out to me. I join him at the front and slide the paper to the attendant. "Mom made a copy of that for me too. I guess all of us get something."

The attendant comes back with a bucket of toys and our supplies in a neat bag. "I think we'll have to come back for the toys," I explain. "Sorry." The man, Mr. Juarez, grunts before putting the toys back. As we're about to leave I take a glance at the bag and see a kit of 5 building blocks. I'm about to return it before his wife, Mrs. Juarez, puts it back in our bag and tells us to be quiet.

Luckily enough our home isn't too far away from the general store. Tilden has just put mom on the chair as she glances out. She's been mute for far too long and distantly waves at me and Percy as we walk in. Tilden jogs up to us. "Hey. I know it's for horses, but what do you have right now?"

Percy dumps the bag into his arms and walks off to feed what little livestock we have. I can hear the bleating of our goat and the thumps of our warren of rabbits. "Is Mom ok?"

Tilden's face grows dark and he takes me off to the side. "I thought we got rid of all of his photos. She found one behind the coat rack. Who put it there?" he asks sternly and angrily. "I don't want Mom to get any worse, and remembering that fucktard isn't going to make things better." I wince as he curses but stand tall as we slowly approach our siblings. Fleur, Acantha, Mardon, Caspian, and Denica deny that they put it there. It seems suspicious but even with the chairs we have they can't reach the top of the coat rack. "I'll ask Percy about it," Tilden says. "We're having bread with oil and a slice of ham each today. Got a good barter in with my friend."

Turning slightly, I spare a glance at mom as she looks woefully out the window. She loved Dad, but Dad wasn't all that nice to her. She's looking to the scene of his death, the Khalos' barn. It was an accident, so we didn't get too much...supposedly. I blink my eyes and see my mom getting to the electric stove we have. "Annica Valonia, please get me a platter."

Once again I sigh, she's been calling me Annica a lot lately. I grab a platter just as she drops the ham onto it. She sprinkles the oil over it daintily before finishing off with a smidgen of herbs from her reserve. I make a small note of that to ask my friends for more herbs. Before too long dinner is ready and I have to call in Tilden, Percy, Fleur, Acantha, Mardon, Caspian, and Denica.

There's just enough room at the table for all of us. It was built for 11 people but 2 of the seats are unoccupied. Tilden has been meaning to move Dad's chair but some friend of his always interrupts his day. Mom hasn't noticed it today but like always we try to spend dinner in silence. When Mom gets up to put her dishes away Percy marches after her and moves to help her put away her food. We don't let it go to waste so the goat has it today.

"So who's going to take care of the kids' homework today?" I ask Tilden.

"I thought you said that you were. I'd get to work with Percy and Fleur but Acantha, Mardon, Caspian, and Denica would have your help," Tilden says with a groan. He's been becoming more tired lately. I walk into the living room with my younger siblings as they all pull out their small backpacks with their homework inside. I turn on the radio for background music.

"If you guys have any papers, lay them out so that you can do them. When that's what you have to do. I'll be over here if you need help. Y'all know what to do, right?"

At the series of nods I take a seat on the chair, pulling out my own homework to work on it idly. On the radio some hosts are already blabbing on and on what the victors will be up to. I hear the District 5 is going to have their latest boy mentor since their oldest had just died. Districts 1,2, and 4 are also putting their better foots forward for this year, since it's always a quell that they fail and they want to leave a mark. Districts 7, 8, and 9 are preparing their tributes mentally but we don't hear much about other Districts.

Besides District 13 of course. "Nia!" I turn my head sharply and look at young Mardon. "I need help!" A quick glance at his homework tells me what I need to do. Homework for history/social studies isn't that hard, so he just needs to match the industry to the District.

"What is it that you need?"

"I don't know what District has seafood!" He shouts frustrated.

I laugh on the inside as I grab his hand and point to the map. "They told you what seafood looks like. And they said where seafood comes from right?"

"By the sea?"

"By the sea. So what Districts do you know that are by water?" I ask. He looks at his loose map. He points to District 13's coast, District 11's coast, District 5's coast, and District 4's coast. "Ok. Do you know what the other Districts are used to make?"

"Umm, 13 and 5 have energy? And 11 has food? So that makes 4 water? And seafood?" I nod encouragingly while he gets back to work. _And that was all we can tell you about District 13 tonight. Come back same time tomorrow for all about the Districts!_ Dagnabbit, I missed the talk show. There's always tomorrow but the information isn't the same every day.

When the kids finish off their homework I can finally start making meaningful progress with my own. They begin to play in the living room as Tilden comes to help me out. "So, are you going to come to school tomorrow?" I ask Tilden.

"If only for an hour, I will. You know how hard life is. We still have some paperwork to fill out with the scribers. Tomorrow is algebra, which I'm not looking forward too," he mutters. "Just take care of yourself tomorrow morning, and hang out with your friends."

"Alright. So I take it you'll pick up Percy?'

"Yes." With a sigh, he lights a candle and brings it closer to my work. We begin with literature and end with science. With a mutual sense of tiredness we go to bed, curling up with our quiet siblings on one mattress. It's a soft day.

 _Bingo Nomel, 26 years old, Victor of Hunger Games 139, District 10 Male Mentor_

 _Reaping_

With a yawn, I set myself on the milking stool and slowly coax a cow closer to me. It stops with its udders over my bucket and is already ready for milking. Sleepily I begin to milk, squeezing the udders, lowering the udders, lifting the udder, squeezing the next, lowering the next, and almost fall asleep at the stool. The barn door opens and lets the light flood through. "Come on," Secretariat mumbles.

I look up with weak eyelids and struggle to keep them open just as she guides the cow out the barn door. She icks up the pail of milk and carries it with her. "Bingo come on. You didn't get enough sleep, did you?"

"Do I ever?" I ask tiredly.

"No, no you do not." When I tiredly get up she walks to the door, tripping over a pebble and spilling the milk. Luckily it wasn't that much but she's also dropped her massive handbag. I lumber over to help her pick up what's fallen out, though stop when I see a recipe list.

Written on top is the word 'Vegetarian' in bold letters. "Secretariat," I ask, my voice hardening. "Are you a vegan?"

She pales but hastily puts more of her recipes in the bag, not bothering to put them away neatly. She kicks the milk pail away and runs off. With a sigh I find another one of her recipes and read it aloud. "Tofu turkey," the title is. "In order to make the most of this recipe, please use soy milk rather than regular milk, and incorporate the usage of carrots and broccoli. The result will be fake turkey that tastes like the real thing."

Inwardly I throw up, but I have to find Secretariat. Vegans aren't well liked in the District. Too many means of making money have all been affected by those...hippies…. I pass by Victor's park to the square, where it is overrun with picnickers that have their blankets and baskets all set up for a meal while they wait for the fateful day to begin. When I climb on the stage next to Lassy and Veal, I notice that Secretariat isn't here yet.

As I get comfortable I begin to think, thinking about the stupid vegans that entered the Hunger Games before. Though small in number, they've caused many many cost heavy setbacks. District 10 voted a vegan in for the first quarter quell after she crashed a transport truck with enough cows to make over 3000 pounds of meat, and that was her fifth offense. The District was punished just after the 81st Hunger games because...well a stupid vegan took advantage of the mines.

I'm alerted to Secretariat sitting next to me as the reaping finally begins. It's a mind numbing drawl of repetition that lulls me to sleep to the point where Veal has to wake me up almost every five minutes. I stay awake long enough to see the boy get picked first. He comes to stage with tears in his eyes taht he's trying to wipe away but his heavy hyperventilating breaths aren't helping matters for him. For a boy of this District, he stands fairly tall at a little less than 5'10".

Then the girl gets called up. It's...devastating. A girl walks out of the 12 year old section, petite and almost to tears too, but hides it better than her taller partner. As she remains on stage the wind picks up and ruffles her three plaits in the hair. They stand on stage _so honored_ to be a part of the quarter quell and shake hands with quavering motions.

As our escort, a tall man named Coclyx Xylcoc, takes them into the justice building for goodbeys, I try to talk to Secretariat but she's gone again. I'll have time to talk to her about it but I have to keep it secret...there are too many risks at her secret getting out.

 _Valonia Kalene, 12 years old, Spunkster_

 _Goodbyes_

After a maze of corridors and infinitely many pairs of double doors I am thrown into the plush fancy room. I pull myself up and try to get my wrinkles out. I move to the seat and rest with my head looking down, almost to tears before the door opens again. "NIA!" I can hear Sarah rush in. She jumps into my arms and begins to cry.

Behind her are Mary and Austin. I take a glance at Austin and see his hand tightly holding Mary's as they look dumbfounded. "Hi…" I squeak. "I...I...I don't know how to get out of this."

Mary and Austin sit on one side of me while Sarah gets off my lap to another. "I know my best friend, and she can do this," Mary says stronger than I could. "I know that at the very least you'll try. And you'll be sure to do it."

I begin to sit up straighter but still can't quite open my house coherently. "Uhh, yeah," Austin says reassuringly. "Look. You're a smart girl, you're an athletic girl, you can easily make friends. You can work the crowds. We believe in you and that's a start right?"

"I-hu-I suppose…" I whimper. "Thanks. Uhh, I'll miss y'all though." They hug me tightly. "Keep doing what you do. Have fun in the clubs…"

All too soon they have to leave through the double doors. I look at them as they pass through the door and it's the last glimpse I'm sure to see of them. Yet again i begin to cry, only interrupted by a rough draft from the door opening. I look up and see my horde of family members walking in. Mom walks to the window and opens it before kneeling in front of me while crying.

Tilden stands at my right with a firm hand at my shoulder. "It's ok," Tilden quietly says. "You can cry."

I look at my siblings below me, those who don't understand. Denica and Caspian look at each other confused before asking Tilden where I'm going. "I-" I choke. "I have to play a game. I don't know where I'm going or if I'll be back. I'm going to try to win ok?"

THey nod but hug me tightly. I don't think they get that I'll die, but I think that they get that this is the last time I'll see them. I turn to Percy as he keeps a brave face for Acantha, Mardon, and Fleur. Percy hugs me tightly and takes the younger kids out of the room, trying to explain to them gently what's happened.

"Mom. I'll miss you. I'll see you some way or another," I say through clouded eyes. She nods grimly and follows Percy and the others out of the room. I turn to Tilden just as he slips his black bracelet onto my arm. "We...no you...you have to tell her sometime soon."

"I know. It's not going to make it easier and i don't know how she'll take it," Tilden voices his worries. "It's been 2 years and yet the time isn't right. It's almost never right. You know?"

"I-I-I…" I nod my head when I can't complete the sentence and hug him tightly. "Just don't let anyone grieve too long."

His head slumps forward as he nods for a final time. The peacekeepers come in, flank him on both sides, and take him out of the room. I'm alone, and I think I want to cry, but I think I don't want to anymore.

 _Atticus Landry, 16 years old, Rancher_

 _Goodbyes_

I can't stop crying when I finally go into the room. I've managed myself the best that I could but now I can't hold it. I can't kill! I can't fight! I can't! I can't! I can't! I can't! I can't! I begin breathing heavier just as the door opens. My father, strong and tall, holds the door open for mom as I run to his arms. "Dad… I can't!"

"Breathe. Just breathe," Dad tells me. I slow my pace but an odd hiccup still surfaces. "Son. I know I can't relate, but son, you have to be strong. You come from a strong family. I know we didn't give you enough, we didn't let you do much, but I hope that what we gave you-"

"Don't blame yourself, please!" I shout.

"Atticus," mom says quietly. I look up at her as she holds onto the chair to keep her steady. "We think you can make it home, can't you believe in that?"

"Carol, he's going through a hard point, he can express himself how he wants," dad explains. "Atticus, there are many things that we want to say to you, and in case I get interrupted, I love you my son."

"I love you, mom and dad." My grip on him grows tighter while he continues giving his advice. I try to listen to him, but he can't get through it all before the peacekeepers come in the room. I pull mom and dad in for a final hug befoe they disappear through the final door.

Just in time, I dry my tears before my siblings all come in. Phoebe comes in first, letting me rest my head on her hard worked shoulders, and remains silent as usual while Lars, Angelo, and Richmond come in. "You know, I can't be lying to say that I'll miss you" Lars says nonchalantly. "I know that you can fight. I trust my brother that much."

"Yeah," Richmond tries to encourage. "I know how you lifted that lamb onto Strider and carried a kid from the north ranch to the south pasture when it got separated! You have a great sense of direction and I think we told you a lot!"

Angelo and Phoebe exchange quiet glances as they both ruffle my head. I hug all of them closely as they try to reassure me. I begin to sit up and listen to them even more as the overall mood lightens. The peacekeepers come in with a loud knock, so my family leaves quietly. "I'll miss you guys."

"Try your best to make it back," Angelo quietly murmurs.

"I'll be rooting," Phoebe says as she departs.

They leave only to be replaced by Erin, Mercer, Jordan, and uhh…. Someone….

Erin and Jordan flank me on the sides. "We just wanted to uhh, see you off. Home won't be the same without you, so we just wanted to let you know that we'll all be rooting for you," Jordan says. "I know we haven't hung out often, but, we are all looking out for you. We'll pick up your chores."

"Thanks guys," I choke. "Umm, I don't think we've met."

"I'm Jennifer. I wanted to meet you, sorry it had to be this way. I'll help Mercer and you all out. It's what your family does, I assume," she explains. "And don't worry, I'll convince my folks to help."

"Thanks. I know it's a stretch. But Thank you." No sooner do I thank her that the peacekeepers take them away. I rest in a better mood, but I'm still trying to find a way out. I pick at my hair and find a piece of wool. I stuff it in my pocket and try to keep it there. "I'll miss you District 10."

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **So I'm sorry for the late update becuase school and vacation kind of ruined my funk, if that makes sense. To be frank the only reason I was able to get District 4 soon after District 5 was because District 4 was my favorite, so I'm terribly sorry about that bias. To be blunt I quite like District 10 but how I did on Atticus and Valonia is entirely based on you, the reviewers and their creators. I'm alos trying to catch up on reviews, which sucks for me.**

 **Sponsor Points:**

 **1) Where do Erin and Mercer feed the chickens? (4 points)**

 **2) What toy is given to the Kalenes? (4 points)**

 **3) Which way of life has a negative connotation in Districct 10? (2 points)**

 **a) Name One of Atticus' siblings (1 point)**

 **b) Name One of Valonia's Siblings (1 point)**

 **Anyways sorry if I offended anyone who does practice the lifestyle in real life, which I did label as a controversy here previously. It's for story telling purposes and kind of has been established in my world since a long gone fanfiction.**

 **UPDATE: Thank you Golden Moon Huntress for understanding, and thanks for letting me know for it has been fixed**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps.**

 **P.S. I really love you guys for reading, thank you**


	17. Reaping, Cultivated Farmlands

**_Reaping: Cultivated Farmlands_**

 _Ember Hayfield, 17 years old, Field Leader_

 _8 days before Reaping_

With a heavy heave I lift up the basket of apples into the automatic sorter and weigher. I rest on the side as the technician gets the weight aptly recorded on his new fangled computer and checks in on my list. "Ms. Hayfield, you have completed the quota for the apple orchard. Thank you very much, please report to the winery to harvest 75 pounds of grapes."

I nod respectfully before walking out of the climate controlled field for the apples. As soon as I'm out of reach of the apple orchard I flip him off, annoyed at his tone. I turn to the left to view the rice paddies, seeing Silco Sheevan hard at work with his group, shirts off, in the hot sun. I quicken my pace as I feel the red rushing to my cheeks and find myself in front of the low brick building of the vinery.

"Ember Hayfield," the automated voice says just as I walk through the door. "Please report to the second door of the East wing for the grapes. Your crew today will include Caharia Freys, Sorghum Reetz, Pearan Calblithe, Durian Hurshell, and Thorn Hayfield. You will accompany a crew of 5 for rows 5-8 of grapes. Thank you."

"You're welcome," I reply sarcastically. Donning a workman's belt I walk through the freshly swept floors. I find my crew swiftly due to it being populated with 3 of my best friends.

As I walk up I'm greeted with a hug and a swift punch form Durian. "Aw Dammit, now my knuckles are bruised," he says jokingly. Obviously he's trying to butter me up but I just roll my eyes.

"That's only because you're punching incorrectly, meet me at the shop and I'll show you how to do it." Pearan and Durian laugh at my remark just as the door opens. The entrance is flanked by 2 peacekeepers, one dutiful the other lax. Thom looks at the dutiful peacekeeper and his face relaxes, I think he recognizes him from a meeting, yet that can't be discussed out of the usual places.

We squat in front of one vine of grapes each, meticulously plucking each bunch from its stem and daintily setting it in my bucket. If any grape gets damaged and my bag gets stained then that warrants a punishment. I look to the left and right of me to find Pearan and Thorn hard at work. The girl furthest to the left, I assume Caharia, has just finished and is idly waiting with her nails close to her chest. With a sigh I look furthest right to see Durian finishing. Finally Thorn and Pearan finish up with their vines. "All ready guys?" Thorn asks. "Let's swap sides."

Back and forth we go, swapping sides until the four rows are all tackled. I get up, stretching out my back and standing at my full height as Thorn claps a hand on my back. "Last job of the day for me, so I'll see you," he says as he takes water from his flask. He walks to the door and drops off his bag.

I plaster a bright smile on my face just as I go over and clamp my arms over Pearan's shoulders. "You scared me! Jeez, Ember," she says jokingly. "Why are you so intimidating?"

"It's obvious. Her resting bitch face, her height, her scars, she's as scary as they come," Durian interjects.

"Bugger off," I say mockingly. He holds his hands behind his back patiently as I back up. The other two, Caharia and Sorghum, have just finished weighing theirs. "I don't suppose the two of you need a meal tonight."

"You guessed it, but how?" Durian says with expressive eyes.

"It's what you always want," I reply with equally expressive eyes. After weighing our bags with a different peacekeeper we drop the grape uniforms and equipment at their allotted station before heading out. This complex is somewhere in the middle of nowhere with a town close by. District 11 is one of the largest districts, so we try to take advantage of our yields.

The lucky few who get to work on the machines have a distinct class of busmen, those who take us to and fro from complex to home to town. The bus that Pearan, Durian, and I hop on is slightly packed with about 15 others. A quick tally later, I realize that it's just 2 families. Families grow upwards of 4 children in the district, so I'm not surprised. The bus goes to our housing and sustenance row quickly.

I'm the first one off and help Pearan and Durian make their way around the rambunctious children. While I do work in the fields, I work alongside my parents and siblings in our large general store, where our house is just behind. I open the door and herd Pearan and Durian into a table as we walk inside. Just recently we got some waiting toys so I find the two of them easily fixated on them.

I take a glance outside through the window and see Thorn coming in with a bag of seeds. I presume it's from the funeral center and make a small wave through the window. He notices and rushes in. He dumps the seeds on the table and greets me with a quick hug. He heads out and meets up with our other friends. I wait as the water continues to boil over while sitting on the table.

In Thorn's pile of seeds I see a card, open slightly. I vaguely recognize the signature as one of the undertaker's. A tribute from years ago, Plumereen Arowick, daughter of the undertakers and one of Thorn's best friends, is buried there. They've been close, and I've always thought of them as getting together, and it seems like they did. When the time goes off I jump up, almost knocking the seeds off, but pick them up and store them in a cupboard as I prepare their meal, but not before sampling a bit..

It's to little shock when I walk out into a mass of people. Like always I can get through the crowd, not really caring about knocking others over as I muscle my way to the tables along the walls. "So did I ever tell you about the ducks I saw the other day?" Durian begins to blabber. I get in a sentence every now and then, commenting on the likelihood of eating a duck, but it's really his story to tell, and it's a hilarious one. "And all it needed was a good wash to go running down my throat," he concludes.

"Nice one," Pearan begrudgingly says. She tells a story of one of her dad's drunken friends, how she manipulated him into 'accidentally' eating fertilizer. "Any stories now, Ember?"

"You know I'm not interesting, and I don't really want to," I joke, taking a sip from a bottle of water. "But I did hear this joke about this man walking into a bar."

"Then what happened?" Durian asks.

"He went to the apothecary. Come on, you always fall for that one," I grumble just as he howls with laughter. "And looks like your guys' bus is here, so I should see you off?"

"We'll see you off," they reply. I see them go through the mass of people. With a sigh I turn to the empty dishes, ready to start my sweeping duty as the rush hour begins to die down. Soem stragglers greet me off, having known me from the register duties.

My dad, a co-owner of one of the larger orange orchards, comes in through the back and greets me warmly just as the last of the stragglers leaves. "I've never stated my thanks to you about how you and your mom just run the place so well," he observes. "Thank you."

"Dad it's nothing, don't worry, you do so much for us," Thorn says as he walks in. "But what do I know? I'm rarely here."

Thorn, at 6'2", is taller than my father by about 2 inches, and besides the wrinkles slightly around his eyeballs, Thorn and my father look like brothers. "You do just as much, don't put yourself down like that. I'll be going to the funeral parlor tomorrow and dropping off their groceries before the orchard," Dad says.

As I'm sweeping a new set of footprints brings in mud through the front door. "Hey Hey," I greet, looking at my sister-in-law. We've just gotten the news that she's expecting so I walk up and help guide her through my route. "Food will be on the table Mazie, thanks for joining." She's never been much of a talker, so she puts on a happy grin and sits at the table, holding her relatively small stomach.

I turn around to see Milo and Cane, back to their old shenanigans, playfully fighting before Mom gets the two of them a notebook and the cash box. In no time, the store has closed up, the trash has been swept, and the lights are set to their idle setting. It's time to eat, and it's been a long but average day. When dinner ends, it's to bed as usual, preparing for another early day.

 _Kaney Mayes, 13 years old, Spoiled Sweet_

 _6 days before reaping_

"And so, I jump down from the tree and chase the wolf away! Only this time, he's joined by a tracker jacker friend. I get stung once and my grandmom takes me away," Omri elaborates. I give him a round of applause before Garner shoves him. "Okay, okay, I did lie about one of them. Grandpa took me away, not grandmom."

"That's more like it," Garner says satisfied. "So who's up for the story next time?"

"I'll go," I say excitedly. "So yesterday, I was with Dad on a classroom assignment, because he wanted me to see how the fields were run. A man knocked me over and Dad hoisted him up, dusted him off, and carried him to the medical center. Isn't that nice?"

Omri gives me a light smatter of applause but Garner and Edom look kind of...distracted so to say. "Oh yeah," Edom speaks up. "I think that was actually my uncle. Do you know why he knocked you over?"

"He wasn't looking where he was going?" I ask back.

"Well, uhh, he was getting some rice for his mom and my grandma. He paid off one of the guards but still had to look around," he explains.

"Oh. If he wanted rice why didn't he just ask my dad? We have plenty."

"It's something," Garner explains. "I think it's just that he doesn't like asking help. I don't like asking for help either, and well, neither do any of my family members."

Omri finishes clapping and quietly nods. "Wanna race to the general store? I think that we could go first since, you know, we uhh, have the mayor's kid?"

"Yeah, that sounds like fun," I say, lacing up my shoes. "MOM, I'M GOING OUT WITH OMRI AND GARNER AND EDOM!"

"Have fun, baby! Stay safe!" I kind of cringe when she calls me baby, but fortunately, my friends haven't heard. She's probably working on her report, so she probably doesn't know that I'm going out, really. I turn to Garner and Edom as they fix their loafers. It's slip on, but they know how to tie their shoes. I meet them at the front door and wait as we line up on the porch. From the hill, I see the small general store and point it out.

They all see it, past the apple and olive orchards. I hold onto my rucksack and line up as we all do. "Ready," Garner counts.

"Set," Edom chimes.

"GO!" Omri shouts, racing down the steps. Until we reach the apple orchard we run mostly in line. Even after stumbling a little I gain a long lead that extends into the olive orchard and my friends fade into the background. When I reach the general store, I'm the first and I can't see any of my friends. When I look at my now empty hands, I see that I've dropped my little bag. I run down the hill and retrace my steps.

"Kaney!" I hear Edom shout. I see him on the right side of the road, with Garner and Omri. I run up to join them but peacekeepers get to them first. I'm held back as they walk up threateningly to my friends.

"What? What's going on?" Omri says worriedly.

"Are you all thieves?" one of the peacekeepers asks. "Save it, I know what goes on."

"But he's our-"

"No excuses! Look, just get away from the bag and it'll be a bit better of a punishment," the other peacekeeper says. I try to run forward to them but they hold me back. "Hold on, are you in with them?"

"Yes, they're my friends!" I worriedly explain. "They were just trying to-"

"Save your words, look. I don't know who you are but I'll let you off with a warning. If I see you with any more of the Mayes' property then I'll punish all of you!" The peacekeeper shouts. He's attracting a crowd and pushes me to the side. He pulls out his baton and walks to Omri, grabbing his hand.

Luckily he stops there when my dad runs up. "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!" he shouts. It's the first time I've heard him curse. "DO YOU KNOW WHO THE FUCK YOU'RE TALKING TO?!"

The peacekeeper calmly explains what is going on but my dad isn't having any of it. "YOU JUST TRIED TO PUNISH MY SON AND HIS FRIENDS! I DEMAND TO SEE YOUR OFFICER!" I pull Omri, Garner, and Edom away from the scene as one of Dad's guards get around the four of us. I hug the three of them as Dad begins to argue with the officer.

"I think that we should head home," Omri says. I look at my friends and they all nod. I'm sad, but I understand. "That wasn't the first time it happened, and now I'm scared."

"Guys, that's not going to happen again," I explain. "Dad will protect you and-"

"But, you know," Garner stutters. "Look, let's just go to the general store like always. Can you pay? I think he took my money."

I nod a bit sadly and continue to walk with them slowly to the general store. We aren't stopped by many people and make our way into the store. I put 2 books and about 6 toys in a basket.

Omri shouts to me and points to a bag of flour, on a tall stack of coffee. "My dad wants to have bread tonight. I want to get him the means to do that. And mom says that flour is always necessary," he explains. I find a stool and give it to him, holding it steady as he grabs the 5 pound bag and plops it into a basket. He also grabs a pile of sweets, explaining that his sister's never had any sweets like that, and it's his mom's favorite too.

Garner and Edom walk up with several jars of pickled foods and reluctantly ask me if we could buy them. Like always I let them and they dump them in the basket, looking for some salt to preserve their meat. They pick out 3 coils of sausages and 1 slab of pork. I put all the purchases on my mom's tab, since she handles the money in my house.

On the porch Garner begins to divvy out our purchases and puts them into our bags. "That happens often," Garner tells me. "What that peacekeeper did with us, too many people have gone through that."

"Maybe it's a misunderstanding?"

"Maybe, but for all the peacekeepers to be misunderstood is a stretch," he jokes. He waves me goodbye and walks to his bus stop. Omri and Edom follow shortly after and when they leave my sight I go inside to the parlor.

When I walk in, Mom and Dad pull me into a tight hug. "I'm so sorry that you had to go through that," Dad apologizes. "Mom and I have been talking, and your friends have been put on our safety lists. Like you. So you won't expect any trouble coming their way. But just those three for now ok?"

"Yes dad," I say, not quite understanding.

"Let's get dinner now. We still have some tutoring before you go to bed," Mom adds quietly. Dinner tonight is one of my favorites, fried chicken and fried rice, but Mom and Dad usually eat it all before I get to have some. Dad has an important job as the mayor but he puts his personal computer aside just to eat with us. Mom finishes first and invites the tutor in, getting to work on her economic duties.

When I finish I greet my tutor like my father always does and go into the study room. My usual tutor is an old woman who's been through just enough but replacing her is her son, a strong but quiet spoken guy named Orkeon Firest. He is also on the older side of life but looks so much taller and stronger than his mother. We finish our math and english tonight. Tomorrow he says that he'll be coming back for chemistry. I thank him and go to bed just as Dad finishes his work.

"I know you're worried about today, but that's not going to happen again. Listen, I personally saw that peacekeeper get fired, so I can promise you that," Dad tells me.

"Why did he act like that?" I ask.

"Look, your friends are nice, but he doesn't know that. Maybe your friends were rummaging through your stuff and he saw that as something threatening. Maybe he knew their parents and saw them as rapscallions like their parents supposedly were. Not all peacekeepers are like that, but any ones who are will be swiftly dealt with."

"Dad?" I ask again. "N-Never mind," I say as he turns with a hasty eye. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," he says. I fall into my bed with one of my new books in my hand. It's about a team of mutts searching the district for rebels. By the end of the first 3 chapters I've read, the lead mutt, a landshark Mutt named Kronk, has led his partners, a tiger mutt named Rajar, a tracker jacker mutt named Naganadel, an elephant mutt named Clavoiye, and a rabbit mutt named Korat, into stopping 5 rebel groups.

I put the book on my nightstand and close my eyes, worried about my friends but safe in my bed.

 _Donnabella Firest, 94 years old, Victor of Hunger Games 75, District 11 Female Mentor_

 _Reaping Day_

"ORKEON!" I shout into the intercom. "It's time to get up!" I slowly sit up, cracking my 'old and frail' bones from a great night's sleep and seat myself in my wheelchair. Orkeon, my strong son, is about 64 but still has the strength that District 11 oxmen have. He has all of his father's genes and inherited my love of learning. As he walks in and helps me change I excitedly pat him away with my cane, proclaiming like always that I could do it myself. He relents and greets his wife at the top of the stairs. "Kids nowadays," I grumble with a slight smile.

I look over at my husband, a grand 90 years old, as he slowly stirs to wake up. "Morning," he says quietly. I smile but try to shush him, since the Doctor says a smoker like him shouldn't talk. I wrap an arm around him as he makes his way up, holding onto his cane and sliding into a pair of slippers. I say goodbye to him and make my way to the living room.

I always have my family meet up in the kitchen, and the house is barely big enough for all of us. It's a hearty meal that I always treasure, even if the day is bound to be sad later on. Of my late grandmother, Seeder Firest, I was the only one called to join in a future hunger games. Why none of my kin have been called still stands as a mystery. Though, I guess I may have paid enough with the loss of 3 of my kids when they were babies.

After the last of my tea I find my husband with his oxygen tank, wheeling up to hold me close again. "I'll be missing you too, just sit tight ok?" I can feel him nod against my hair and my youngest daughter, Harriet, helps him get out of the house. Being a victor, when I step out of the house, following me are 3 peacekeepers.

"Thanks. Vlad, Juni, Cordelia, I can take it from here," I politely thank as we reach the reaping stage. It's 5 feet in the air but a special lift helps me get to my raised portion. I'm the first one in a line of victors. Next to me is Bale, then Boreus, then Zacharias, and last, Ulri. I've seen most of them out the arena, but have seen many others go.

The reaping begins with Mayor Mayes giving his speech on the hunger games. He's fairly loyal to the capitol, but has been known to use his authority to let some others go on his volition. Our escort is a walking birthday cake this year, with candied teeth, cotton hair, and ever so sweet dresses.

"Thank you Mr. Mayes, so nice having a stud like you up-oh don't tell your wife I said that," she giggles. "Anyways, you know me as Herodita Whittier, but this year I am HazelNut WhiteFrosting." She's crazy, nothing new.

Her dainty hand dips into the ball for the girls, drawing out the simple name of EMBER HAYFIELD. The girl who stomps on stage is fuming, bearing a striking resemblance to an enraged Johanna Mason when she was alive. She's tall too, easily dwarfing our 5' 1" escort, and stands on par with some of the peacekeepers. "Any words darling?" HazelNutCase asks her.

The stage hands lift up the microphone to her height as she breathes. "My parents always told me not to say anything if I can't say it nicely. But seeing as I'm about to die, fuck off."

NutCase giggles ditzily and calls up the next name. "Oh," she says for a bit. "Kaney Mayes, please join our female tribute on the stage."

I can see Mayor Fen Mayes' face go blank as he tries to rise, but the peacekeepers hold onto his shoulders and keep him down. Kaney takes a long time to get on stage, visibly paling at our female tribute, and is blinking rapidly. "I guess," he says as his last words. "It's...an honor?"

"Nicely said sir Mayes," NutCase says. "Thank you for a momentous quell reaping, and may the odds be ever in their favor."

 _Kaney Mayes, 13 years old, Spoiled Sweet_

 _Goodbyes_

The peacekeepers put a firm and guiding hand on my shoulder. I don't think they like me very much, nor do they like my partner. I haven't seen much of the justice building so it's all new to me. It's much larger than dad has said lately and I'm very much intimidated. It's old too, and I'm kind of worried with the walls all around.

We arrive at the doors, once there were 4 from the looks of it, there's room for many more doors, and when Ember - my partner and I move in front of them, we open the door and are thrust in. Only now I begin to wipe my eyes at the sink. I can't say how nervous I am, can't say anything, so all I can do is sit down and grasp at a plan.

First to come in are my friends, Omri, Edom, and Garner. "Come on," Garner says. "You can do this?"

"C-can I?" I say slowly. I begin to rub at my eyes and Omri gets behind my back.

"We believe in you. Every age came out of the hunger games. We'll send you money to survive," Edom says with a hard voice. "With your dad and mom, we can buy enough to send you out."

"But…" I begin to say. "I think...yeah...you're right, I stand a chance…but it's small. I'm not big, strong-"

"You're fast," Edom speaks up. "You always beat us in races. You can flee the opposition and wait until the end. And well, the careers can't all kill you."

"I'll give it a shot. 1/26 right?"

"1/26," Garner agrees. "It's hard, but maybe you can make some friends to help. And maybe you guys will kill the opposition."

"But...maybe… I think I can…" I begin to stammer. "Thanks guys," I say finally. I put a confident smile on my face and hugh them all. "I'll try my best, but help me out ok?"

"Okay," Garner and Omri both say. I wave the three of them off as they leave. The door closes and I'm alone before both my mom and dad dash into the room. Their formal clothes are all wrinkled and they both look like they've been crying.

"It's ok to cry," Dad says with a shaky voice. Mom tearfully nods along with him, holding me tightly. "I know our ancestors weren't the smartest of people, because they put you in this mess…"

"But you're our boy. We will work with your friends, we'll protect them. We just want you to come home," Mom says through hiccups. "We also need you to be a good big brother."

The tears begin to swell once more as I ask, "What?"

"If it's a girl, we'll name her Katherine. If it's a boy then we'll name him Bucky. You're such a good boy, and your little sibling would love to have you around. Just try, Baby."

It's becoming hard to breathe so the best I can do is hold my face to my dad's shoulder. "I'm...I'm not sure if I can...but it's possible. I'll do my d- hardest," I say.

"You can curse," Dad says, trying to laugh but having it come out as a wheeze. "Curse all you want, but I'll still love you. So will mom, and we're going to do our best to see how you can get out of this ok?"

"Yes dad. I'll try my damndest then," I say, hugging the two of them. The door opens after a light knock and mom and Dad are swept up by their entourage. I wave them off with a little salute, an OK gesture that they taught me when I was younger. I look at the door, time passing by ever so slowly, until it passes all too rapidly and I'm carted out of the room.

 _Ember Hayfield, 17 years old, Field Leader_

 _Goodbyes_

"Come on," I grumble, trying not to let my guard down. The peacekeepers surrounding us take me and Kaney, a small boy, into the hallway just in front of both goodbye rooms. I'm taken into the one designated for the girls and Kaney, I think, is taken into the one for the boys. When I'm pushed in I make my way to the couch, waiting for my visitors.

Thorn, obviously, is the first one to come in. He waits a while to take the room in. "They haven't changed it since Plumereen was in here," he notes. "I...I can't believe it. First Plume, then you."

"Are you crying?" I ask, taken a bit aback.

"I'm not denying it," he says with a light chuckle. "Sorry that you have to see your brother like this. It's just the probable last time that I'll see you."

"Come on," I say quietly, gesturing for him to sit with me. "I don't want to go. But I'm going to have to fight."

"Remember what I-I taught you," he says sternly. "Remember what we all taught you. Make allies if possible, but know that-"

"Only one can make it out. I'll string someone along. They can't all be tougher than me."

"So it's settled, you'll play a villainess?" I nod firmly and hug him tightly. "Just let me get my little sister back."

"I'm older than you by 3 and a half minutes," I say, reminiscing our old arguments. "Just watch out on your own. I'll take care of myself."

"I know you will. Oh, uhh, before I go… Durian and I have started...you know...dating…"

"Take care of him. And you better make sure he takes care of you. Go get them tiger," I say, patting him on the back. He looks on with a more resolute face that I only have to match for the weeks that come.

Pearan and Durian are the next to come in, inseperable, and all talk about how I could easily steamroll the competition. But then Durian starts talking about the injustice of it and I have to shush him. "I can make it q. "Look, I'll miss you guys, but don't cry for me. Durian, take care of my brother. And you better make sure he takes care of you."

He nods quietly and holds me tightly. "Can my future sister-in-law make it out? I believe in her at least," he drones. I shove him off like old times and he laughs. I hug him tightly and they both leave.

Next and last to come in are Mom and Dad. "Ember, you've gotten so strong," Mom dotes.

"I can't believe just how my daughter is today, in front of me. We all believe in you, but...it's still a 25/26 chance," Dad says sadly. "Still, all of us will be rooting for you. You stand as good a chance, I see you highly favored."

"Thanks, Dad," I choke out.

"You can cry," Mom says. I hold her hand tightly and wrap my arms around her shoulder. I've always been a momma's girl, so I hope that this isn't the last time I see them. "We'll do fine. Just...just worry about yourself. Thorn and his friends will be coming in more often, so we should manage. Thank you for being there."

"Love you, Mom. Love you, Dad," I say, tiredly. They both get up at the sound of knocking and slowly leave. I cast them a last sad look, knowing that I can't possibly show any weakness anymore.

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **I'll be frank and say that I struggled with this chapter. District 11 is the Hardest District for me to write about and stands as one of my least favorites. I hope that I did both of these characters justice and I hope that their owners are satisfied. Sorry for the delay. I know it seems impossible but I plan to finish the reapings before at least mid-January.**

 **Question time:**

 **1) What is in the bag of seeds that Thorn brings over from the undertakers'?**

 **2) Name 2 items that Garner, Edom, and/or Omri put into Kaney's basket**

 **3) Who is Donnabella Firest's ancestor?**

 **Bonus:**

 **a) Who is Thorn starting to date by the time he says goodbye to Ember?**

 **b) What is one name that Kaney's parents want to give to their new child?**

 **For fun:**

 **Translate the sentence: Nants ingonyama bagithi Baba**

 **Also, if you want your tribute to specifically ally with another tribute, let me know.**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	18. Reaping, Endless Amber

TRIGGER WARNING: Homophobic abuse in the goodbye Section

* * *

 _ **Reaping: Endless Amber**_

 _Naomi Palmer, 12 years old, Slingshotter_

 _24 days before Reaping_

 **Crash**. There goes another one of Dad's bottles. "I WILL NOT LET ANOTHER ONE OF MY CHILDREN IN THAT PLACE!" He's just...he's just found out about me going to the academy. Mom runs up to him just as he's about to throw another knife in the wall and I dive under the table, tears streaking down my face.

"Quick, come on," I can hear my brother whisper. I crawl out the backdoor and run into the field as he shuts the door, making my way to our usual spot. It's a small treehouse where my friends and family usually meets. "You ok?" chase asks me.

"F-Fine.." I say. "He's been screaming a lot more...r-right?"

"We noticed it too," Chase says. Right now, we're waiting on Sidney, who usually stops by the treehouse, not our house, to give us food. I'm sure that today's meal is going to be better without our Dad interrupting us. "Listen. Once Amphrey and I get married we'll take you in. Sidney says his job isn't permissible to let you in."

I sigh tiredly and wait patiently at the makeshift table we've set up. At the sound of a twig cracking we look down and see Jgen walking up. "Jgen!" I shout excitedly. She runs up to meet us and I hug her just as she finishes climbing up. "You have no clue how glad I am to see you!"

"I saw you 2 days ago, come on. I just came to finish some work with from my tutor. I have some stories that I'd like to tell you, and I know that you'd like to hear." She sits on a cushion and pulls out her backpack. It's a nice black pack with many pockets that can hold a lot of items. Jgen is rich, I know she is, no matter how secret she tries to keep it.

Chase begins to set up the portable stove in our treehouse with a small flame to cook the rice we'll have. I wait a little bit before finally eating a smidgen. Jgen notices and splits off half of her pork for me. I use the slice of pork to wrap some rice around and it tastes pretty good. Another twig snap makes us all turn our heads to the doorway. This time, I see my oldest brother Sidney walking up to us. "Hey!" he shouts.

"Hi!" I shout enthusiastically. He tugs on the lever to bring up some kits and climbs up on the ladder. "Dad's mad again," I say tiredly.

"I figured. He's just gotten worse, hasn't he? Samuel isn't doing us any favors. But I'm on Sam's side more than dad's you know," he says. He begins to talk with Chase before leaving, explaining that the structure of the treehouse might not take all of us in there at once. We wave him goodbye and continue to work.

"What is this graphing stuff that you have to work with?" I ask. She pulls out a small device that looks really cool. She punches some buttons on the device and on the small screen shows an image of a graph. "Wow…"

"Like it?" I nod my head in amazement as she fills out the rest of her work. "It's a CI-900. My parents use it when accounting. I know being the taxpayer's daughter isn't a good job but it gets me cool stuff, so I can't complain."

She finishes her last 3 homework problems and lets me fiddle around with her CI-900. In addition to graphs, the device has many more functions. "Why do you have this?"

"It was a gift. For being me, I guess. Hey, why are you up here today? What happened?"

With a sigh, I give back her device and pinch my nose. "Dad was yelling. So Chase and I ran here, like usual. I've been going to the academy, since I'm old enough and Samuel vouched for me. I just want to learn something new, and now Dad found out."

"If he doesn't want you to learn then that's his problem," she says. "I honestly don't think you should worry about it."

"But you don't have a dad like mine. He doesn't like Samuel to begin with, so when Samuel went at 16 for the residency program, he was livid. Mom let me go and this year has been actually kind of easy because Mom and Sidney and Chase have all offered to pay for me. But Dad found out that money was thrown by the wayside, at least he thought so. I'm riding the storm right now," I explain.

"Wait, why don't you stay at the academy?"

"You know, I was just about to say that was stupid, but I never thought of that. Now if I said that then it would have been stupid, but it sounds so much smarter coming from your mouth."

"Come on, flattery's nice, but it would have been a smart idea from you if you said it. Wanna play a game?" She pulls out a deck of cards from her bag and shows me a quick game called Speed. Naturally, Jgen wins all of them. All too soon she has to go home and puts all of her stuff into a bag. I wave her off and she runs through the fields.

Chase and I are about to pull out the stacks of blankets that make up a bed before we hear the call of a coyote. "That was pretty close," Chase says worriedly. The sun has only barely begun to dip below the horizon. He gestures to me and we go down the tree hurriedly. Our house isn't too far off, but we have to sneak in.

I take a deep breath and look at the book I've accidentally grabbed. _How to be a Victor, a memoir by Leopold Mustang_. I slam the book shut and hide it within my shirt. Last time Dad saw one of these books, Sidney and Samuel got paper cuts all over them. We've told the peacekeepers, but they say they can't do anything.

"Why does Dad hate so much?"

Chase sighs. He can't answer that question. He turns into his room and silently points me into my room. My bed feels so great after a day of a fair amount of stress. I rest on my pile of 2 pillows and a blanket. Mom's old job is still paying off. I haven't had to take much tesserae, our house is insulated, and I can rest easily.

Some loud knocking at my door wakes me up. I get up rubbing at my eyes. Through one of the windows I see a brilliant blaze. "THE GRAINERIES ARE ON FIRE!" I shout in realization.

"We'll be opening up our house as usual," Mom says. She's already woken up Chase and Dad so we all get to work. Dad isn't talking, not like he usually does, but I can see him cast a judgemental eye at me and Chase. The door is open and several people are herding others inside.

Our house is a good size but we can hold up to dozens of us at a time. During the early morning of the grainery fire, Jgen and her family come in with their piles of pillows and blankets. As much as they want to help, their house isn't marked as a designated safe area, due to being located across a tributary. I wait with Jgen as we pass out blankets and cups of coffee.

"Why did the grainery blow up?" I ask Jgen as we hit a lull.

"A metal door made a spark and it reacted," Jgen says. "That's all I know. We haven't had one of those in forever, so this is new."

"Wow," I say quietly. Slowly but surely, the fire gets put out and the peacekeepers officially relieve us all of our duties. Jgen leaves with her family when they're dismissed. She says we can meet up again next week. Mom and Jgen's mom greet each other off kindly but my dad stays in the corner, drinking his coffee.

I look at Chase as he finishes patching up a girl. He's always been a flirt. "So keep off of your toes for a while, and if you need help-"

"Don't worry, I'm at the academy," she says, rolling her eyes. "Your little sister's pretty good at the slingshots, you should watch her." I give her a high five as she limps out.

"I wanna rest at the academy," I tell Chase. "Tell mom and divert dad's attention, and pick me up when it's ready."

Chase nods and helps me sneak out. The training academy is the second largest building, so I see it after only 5 minutes of walking. It's past 3 tributaries and another row of houses. I can see trucks with tons of grain by my side but it's far and few between.

At last I make it to the Academy, finding one of my other friends also walking in. "Lillia," I greet, waving my hand.

She runs over and hugs me. "I saw the fire and I remembered that you lived like really close to there, are you ok?"

"Yeah, but I'm tired. We just like had to help with the injured. I-i wanna sleep real quick."

"Oh ok, after that you wanna go swimming?"

"That sounds like fun!" I shout excitedly. We walk in to check with the receptionist, getting our training numbers. I wave goodbye to Lillia and take a cat nap in the resting room. Of the array of 25 beds I take the one in the middle, nestlling in between an older boy and an older girl. Sleep comes easily and when I wake up it's almost as if no time has passed.

 _Samuel Palmer, 18 years old, Humble Wrestler_

 _21 days before reaping_

I plant my back on the hard mat, twisting my opponent's arm and wrapping my legs around his neck. He falls to the ground hard of breath and taps out. I breathe heavily and stand up, victorious today for the second time in a row. I look at the board and see my stats go up. My opponent, Pendler Callett, gets up with a look of hurt in his eyes, but shakes my hand. "Good job bro," he says. I pull him in for a side hug and he leaves the room. His evaluation is over.

"Mr. Samuel Palmer," a noble and strict voice calls out. Illima Montoya steps into the wrestling ring and congratulates me. "You have received exemplary marks in the hand to hand combat section of the evaluation. Combine this with your above average marks in spear handling and sword wielding, you are currently among the highest contenders as for a volunteer to the sixth quarter quell."

A smile grows on my face as I run a hand through my curly hair. "Thank you Ma'am. I hope to serve you well."

"You are now free to go. Your evaluations are over and your outlook is prosperous."

I shake her hand and leave the wrestling room, finding three slackers resting on a bench. "So you're done!" Jamie shouts. "So tell us, how did you beat their asses? Did you wipe the floor with them? Make them cry?"

"Really? Our softie Sammy, making someone cry?" Michael jokes. I punch him in his shoulder and he pretends to cry before toughening up and punching me back.

"Come on, it wasn't like that," I reply. "I barely scraped through as is."

"You?" Emal asks. "You're literally one of 5 people with over an 80% win rate when it comes to wrestling combat."

"I'm not believing that," I say, rolling my eyes. "Hey, let's camouflage for a while, I need some time to rest."

As we walk up to the third and highest story of the training center, we run into Gerald Montoya, victor of Hunger Games 132. He's a strongly built man but despite his appearance is a massive teddy bear. "Sammy!" he greets. "My wife told me how proficiently, how superbly you performed."

"Thank you, sir," I say quietly. Behind him I can hear my friends all snicker in muffled tones and I try my best to ignore them.

"You remind me of myself when I was younger, besides being gay and all that."

"Sorry?" I reply shocked.

"Oh, it was obvious. Besides, no one cares about that where you're going," Gerald says dismissively. "Look, your father is a bad man, but even if you don't volunteer, your family will have a better life, I promise that. And if you need me to set you up with -"

"That won't be necessary, Mr. Montoya!"

"If you insist. You're on good terms with me, you can call me Gerald now. And I hope to be a mentor figure for you. Caleb has the duty this year, but I'll be sure to help out."

"Thank you Mis-Gerald. Thank you, Gerald." I shake his hand firmly and he departs.

I turn to my friends with red spreading on my face and quietly slink behind them as we enter the camouflage area. "Samuel are you going to paint yourself?" Emal asks. I shake my head yes and he goes over to Michael, offering to work with him to paint himself as a rock.

As they recruit Jamie for waterside painting I glance over the materials needed for individual tree side camouflage. I grab a green tarp, which is likely to be found in the arena, and a brown cap, an oddball item that has been spotted. Using the resources around, like the muddied water, I slather it over me and paint myself like the forest floor. "Sounds like a great idea, isn't that right, Samuel?" Jamie asks. "Samuel?"

To play a trick, I remain silent as he takes a quick glance over the forest floor area. Finally he notices something else and walks up. I clean off the camouflage and walk up to him. "What was that idea? I didn't catch that."

"Samuel! I didn't see you back there!"

"Well, I was there the whole time," I retort. After a quick glance at the time, I realize it's almost time for the dinner meal. After the meal, I have to report to the office, where I have to discuss with 5 other trainees for my capability in participating in the Hunger Games. "So what were you talking about?"

"I'm going to call my dad over and we can go into town for a restaurant. Does that sound like a good deal?"

"Yeah, yeah, I don't owe you anything back, right?"

"No, no," Jamie says to reassure me. "It's because of you. You're bound to get one of the three volunteer spots. And my dad likes you."

"Does he?"

"Yep, don't worry about it," he says, finally. He calls over a bickering Emal and Michael to leave with us. I hang up my number at the receptionist and wait with the three of them in front of the training academy. As the younger trainees leave, I see a familiar face in the crowd of many dozens. I jog up to Naomi and hug her.

"Hey, bro…" she says uncomfortably. "How are you doing?"

"I heard you broke the record for most plates cracked with 100 units of ammunition," I say proudly. "The fact that I had to wait until I heard it through the grapevine...you're making quite a name for yourself."

"Thanks," she says. "Dad isn't happy that I'm attending the academy, but after his first freak-out he got a bit better. He's just...not talking."

"That's better than when I was there," I say reassuringly. "Look, you know I'm not returning home. Chase met up with me the other day, and I know about your guys' plan. I'll try to help it. I'll get a job if this volunteering thing fails. I'll see if I can get a job here."

"Thanks big bro," she says quietly. "Mom wants me home right now so… I'll see you."

"See you." I hug her tightly and she skips off, holding her bag behind her.

Jamie's father's limo comes up shortly afterward and the three of us pile in. I sit closest to the door, away from the arm wrestling trio of Michael, Jamie, and Emal. After too long, I crack open a carbonated drink and put my elbow on the table, jokingly going against Jamie and Michael. To a bit of surprise, Jamie, the strongest of us all, loses to both me and Michael, and I scrape out a win against the two of them. "So...you guys going soft?" I joke. "Sorry, sorry, too good to resist."

They all laugh and we arrive at the town square. The three restaurants are usually reserved for the likes of Jamie and his clique outside of the academy. I quietly stride in, keeping my head bowed as we make a way to a table. "If only I could share this with more people," Jamie laments. "But I guess that's how life is."

Jamie points to several of his favorite menu items and encourages me and the others to pick out what we like. His dad walks in just as plate after plate of our own orders come in. Mouthwatering steak piled three high, baked potatoes, steamed vegetables, savory bread… "Jeez, Jamie, why don't we do this more often?" Michael asks.

"Because I'm paying. The three of you are good friends to my sons, so don't worry about the cost this time around," he says heartily. I sit silently, focusing on the dripping sauce on the plate of venison I ordered. "Jamie said that one of you is a strong candidate for volunteer. So which one is it?"

Sheepishly I raise my hand, blushing slightly at the attention. "Me, sir, Samuel Palmer."

"Oh, don't worry about formalities. You're my son's best friend, I remember you, of course," he says. "Haven't seen you in a while, so you've gotten big and strong. Might we arm wrestle? I am out of practice."

"If it's no problem with you," I say quietly. Reluctantly I finish the plate of lobster and set my arm into position. He grins widely and prepares. To my shock, I muscle through and pin his arm to the table. He laughs loudly and claps my back. "Thank you for that sir. If we're done here I think we can head back."

"I'll have my driver do that then, do be free to come back, on my tab," he says generously. Jamie shakes hands with him and kisses his mom on the cheek before we all pile in the car. The drive back to the academy is a bit awkward since all the three of them can do is shower praise of my 'strength'.

We walk into the cafeteria and sit at a table, waiting for the victor's announcement. As Gerald Montoya, Caleb Miller, Curtis Mares, Nadia Sirus, and Swift Stryson make their way to the stage, the trainees simmer down. Caleb, acting as the headmaster tonight, since the duty is held by the five victors, steps up and thanks us all. "Today we announce the three potential volunteers for the male spot in this upcoming quell. After intense deliberation, we have come to this decision that we feel as the best, and will provide more growth for us to come. So…"

"Braden Juvill." The boy, six feet something at 16 years old, stands up to respected applause and catcalls from his friends as he marches to the stage.

"Samuel Palmer." As my name is called, I rise up, hopefully as gracefully as I planned out, with the backing of my friends behind me as they join many others in cheers.

"Wilmer Lackley." He stands up as well, a bit on the shorter side but impressed nonetheless, and joins me and Braden at the stage. The three of us shake hands as Miranda Shakel, Darinna Sorghus, and Lorianne Keeter are called for the girls.

The six of us are on stage where we begin to discuss who among us would be liable to volunteer, so that we don't enter a fight. As it turns out, as the only 18 year old called, I am given permission from the others to volunteer. Neither Miranda, Darinna, nor Lorianne express their wants to volunteer. After some time, I take to the mic, swallowing up my fear, and announcing to the residency trainees that I intend to volunteer.

At the sound of applause I begin to blush and walk off the stage with the other volunteers. Braden is going to be a strong fight in the future and so will Darinna. I see a little less strength in the others, but they're all bound to be better than me.

I'll still try.

 _Illima Montoya, 38 years old, Victor's Wife and Niece_

 _Reaping_

 _Dear Diary, as it is family custom to write in you daily, I will continue to do so. I had found some of Aunt Jackie's diaries, in particular, a vulgar one wherein she described the foundation of the Career Academy. Jackie Tymphus, that name has shaped all the careers of the District 9 academy, including my husband. I cannot help but to dwell on our fortune even on this grimmest of-_

"Oh dear," I quietly curse. I shake the pen I'm writing with but… yes, it is unfortunately out of ink. I slowly turn off our alarm system and prod my husband awake. He lumbers like a bear out of hibernation and hugs me tightly. "I love you too, Gerald."

"You know what's missing?" he's always been less formal at speaking than I am. "Our kids. KALLIAN! XANTHIA!"

What comes next is the sound of our two twin toddlers running into our room. They join the bearhug, to which I unfortunately find myself at the base of the pyramid. I shove them all off of me, laughing but aout to scold. "As much as I love you guys, we should get ready, because it's an important day for the district, and as the victor's legacy, we should do our best to represent the District."

I'm aware of my husband's sentiment to the capitol, and the work that he does. In fact, I'm guilty of associating with his line of illicit work for too long, not that I truly feel apologetic at my actions. "Yep," he says simply. "Come on kids, I'll get you dressed and mom will prepare herself."

"Bye mommy!" Kallian and Xanthia shout. I smile as I turn in to get dressed, putting on a regal black blouse and maroon skirt for me and setting out an auburn polo with khaki pants for Gerald. I wince as I wonder what he has the twins in.

Breakfast is set for the table by the time I walk down and Kallian and Xanthia are happily munching on toast. "You look marvelous," Gerald says lovingly. He swings me into a hug as we begin to feed each other pancakes. "Are we on a schedule?"

"Unfortunately dear, and to which I am going to be deprived of my teddy bear for far too long of a month," I lament. I hug him tightly and straighten up, calling the kids over, and walking to the town square.

Unlike most Districts, the reaping stage has an allotted spot for victors to have their relatives wait. I sit in the row of chairs behind my husband as the reaping procedures slowly get to work. The twins are a bit fidgety but I hand them their books, to which they read enthusiastically, preoccupying themselves enough for the reaping to get started. My old mother, who had me at an old age of 48, sits next to me, mute due to her stroke. Mayor Whillem stands on stage for her speech, introducing the video, and ceding the microphone to our escort, an airheaded woman named Chester Cacattings.

"Thank you District 9! Can we get a cheer for the revolutionary quarter quell?!" In spite of the academy, we are still kind of reticent when it comes to the capitol. Our size provides ample opportunity for rebellion and the capitol only feeds into our desires for rebellion through their academy, it's a self fulfilling prophecy. "Thank you guys, for giving the technicians a job again!"

She swirls her hand in the reaping bowl, drawing out the process before finally picking the name of the unlucky "Keplar Willard". The 13 year old goes to the stage in tears as Chester calls for a volunteer. Like my husband stated, a volunteer comes on stage, guiding the boy away and standing on the stage, a bit nervous but all the bit sure.

At prompting, he says his name as "Samuel Palmer." I give my husband a congratulatory backrub. He sees a lot of himself in the boy and was gunning for his volunteering privilege. Samuel, a tribute at a decent height, also proves himself to be growing to an attractive man, like my husband stated. Still he has little presence and takes his spot five feet from the microphone when Chester begins to draw for the girls.

"Naomi Palmer." The square goes silent, but I kind of expected it. It is the umpteenth time in history that a sibling pair is called for the hunger games, and yet again it's for the quell. Naomi, an average girl, bears striking similarity to her brother, and it is only when they're next to each other that mutual fear etches on their faces. "Volunteers?"

This time there are none, Naomi has been making a name for herself as a record breaker with the small projectiles. Still, at 12 years old, her survival is slim, and it may compromise Samuel's viability as well. "If that's all, then thank you District 9 for yet another amazing hunger games!" Samuel and Naomi walk into the District justice building with hands tightly intertwined. I continue massaging my husband even after the reaping is over. It'll be a long time before I'll see him again.

 _Samuel Palmer, 18 years old, Humble Wrestler_

 _Goodbyes_

My sister and I are marched into the goodbye rooms surrounded by a squadron of 3 peacekeepers. I can tell my Naomi wants to talk to me but there's going to be time for that. It's...not what I expected...no...but one of us definitely has to make it back. We stop in front of one door, one room behind it. "Lucky thing for the two of you," a peacekeeper says darkly. "For relatives we always have the goodbye rooms together, didja know?"

"I'm sure they did," his cohort says tiredly. The two of us are guided into the room and hear the lock click behind us. I tell Naomi to sit as I begin to pace around the room, almost uninterrupted in my thoughts.

The door opening jolts me out. My mom, frazzled and clearly in a state of distress, walks in with her hands at her hair. "Mom…" I mutter. I run up to her and hug her tightly, closing my eyes as I try to remember her presence.

I'm thrown off what seems to be hours later by an angry force. "GET OFF OF HER YOU FAGGOT!" My dad's fuming voice booms through the tiny room. "THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!"

I pick myself up from the ground but dad lands a solid punch to my face. I recoil in pain and swing back, swinging his arm behind his back in a hard hold that I learned. "SHUT UP!" I shout incessantly. "SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!"

Naomi pushes her hands closer to her ears as she's screaming something. "THIS IS YOUR FAULT! YOU DREW ATTENTION TO OUR FUCKING FAMILY YOU FUCKING FAGGOT! YOU'LL ROT IN HELL LIKE THE REST OF THOSE FAGGOTTED VICTORS!" I apply a sleeper hold to him as he's slowly knocked out without the oxygen.

The peacekeepers hastily apply an ice pack to my eye as I fight back the tears. Chase and Sidney sit on both sides of Naomi and hold her tight. "Chase-no Samuel. It isn't your fault," Mom says quietly. "It's-"

"No one's," Sidney says with urgency. He looks to the guards, seeing them appropriately not listening and begins to cradle Naomi. "We found...we found a bible…"

That word is almost forbidden. "Bible?" I ask curiously.

"Your dad- he practiced an old form of Christianity, it's no longer allowed," Mom explains. "Not like any religion in Panem is allowed, but that's beside the point you know? He was taught that gays should be burned, sons obey their fathers, and daughters be subservient to their elders. He hated the career academy, even more when you joined, and even moreso when Naomi joined. But Samuel, you being gay had nothing to deal with Naomi being reaped."

"Naomi," she turns her attention to Naomi. "Look, you're a strong trainee, but you being 12 years old means that you need allies. Ok. I-I just love you both so much. Try to keep each other alive."

"We'll do that," Naomi interjects. "Mom, thanks. I just hope doesn't plan to hurt you."

"He won't," a peacekeeper says. "Sorry to interrupt but your guys' time is up. We have several more people in line. And a strict schedule. And if it makes you feel better, tribute families are under strict surveillance, so that man cannot be as abusive as he was."

Hugs are held all around, a last hug from my brothers and my mom, and one final one for all of us. Chase opens a small box up and pulls out a necklace. It's one that dad supposedly confiscated when she was younger for religious blasphemy. "Thank you," Naomi whispers.

 _Naomi Palmer, 12 years old, Slingshotter_

 _Goodbyes_

I hug Chase one more time just before they have to leave the goodbye room. When our dad's knocked out body is taken out and the door closes I look at Samuel. He's quietly crying as he applies the ice to his black eye. "I don't want to be a weight," I quietly whisper.

I sit next to him and he rests his chin on the top of my head. "You wont be, i'll try my best to protect you, to find you, to make sure one of us makes it home," he says absolutely resolute. He quiets down and dries his tears in time for the door to open.

"NAOMI!" Jgen screams. "I really, really, really hoped it wasn't you! There were too many girls in the district named Naomi but your parents just told me! I can't believe it!" Just as bewildered as her is Lillia, who can't open her mouth to say anything. "Like, I'm so totally going to miss you! I know that sounds terrible but I'll miss you! I want one of my best friends back, and so does Lillia!"

Lillia nods behind her and finally voices some of her worries. "I don't want-I know 12 year olds have gone out but-I don't want to see you killed. I don't want to see you in too much danger. Don't you have the...slingshot?"

"Slingshot, yeah," I resign. "Slingshot against those strong fighters with shields and spears. But thanks. Thanks for it."

"I remember an old story about this boy named David, he killed a giant with a slingshot," Jgen notes. "The details of the story are a bit fuzzy but after that he killed so many more giants and became a king. So it's possible." The peacekeeper knocking on the door alerts the bunch of us. I hug Jgen and Lillia one last time before they leave.

"TELL THE OTHERS I SAY GOODBYE!" I shout after them. I can vaguely hear Lillia say ok before her voice disappears through the maze of the Justice building. I look at Samuel and he's not been doing much besides nurturing his eye. By some miracle it's looking better.

The door opens again and this time Samuel gets up to greet 3 of his friends. They're all around the same build and have been working in the Academy. "So you did it," one of them says in an acknowledging tone. "Good job, we'll all be rooting for you."

Samuel smiles as he continues to talk with them and listens as they tell him all that he can do. He puts a smile through it all but holds his hand up. "Guys, I just want to-you know, work with Naomi. I don't think both of us will be coming home. I'll try my best," he adds on resolute.

"Look man, she might be deadweight but you can work with her," one of his other friends says. "I see what you mean, but there's always you you have to look out for."

"I know, but that won't stop me," Samuel says. "Thanks for supporting me, I'll do good for you guys if not anyone else."

"We'll miss you Samuel," one of them-I think Jamie- says. "Sorry to get all soft on a tough guy like you, but you've been a great friend. I hope that doesn't change if you come home."

"I hope it doesn't either," he says through tears. "Some tough guy, crying in front of his best friends. I'll miss you."

It's a bit awkward of a hug, but they put themselves through it and depart. Samuel dries his tears again and sits next to me in silence. "You aren't deadweight," he says abruptly. "I'll protect you."

"Samuel, I don't want to hold you back."

"You won't," he says. His determination isn't something that I've heard lately, but I guess that given the situation…

When we're told that we have to go, Samuel pulls me close to him as the peacekeepers take us to the train. I glance to the side of me, getting the last view of District 9.

* * *

 **Hey guys, Hopps here**

 **...SO WE DID IT! Thank you so much for helping me through these first chapters. With 26 tributes all said and done, we have a fair bit of characters to go through, and thank you guys for sticking with me through this part. I hope I did BabyRue11's characters, both Samuel and Naomi, justice. So Last chapter there was a bunch of confusion on Kaney Mayes' label as spoiled sweet. It is in reference to the trope of the same name and I thought it fit him nicely, feel free to check it out on TvTropes.**

 **So: Sponsor points: I'll be tallying these up for a while so it may take awhile. I'm going to send your totals after checking it all.**

 **Sponsor Questions;**

 **1) What is a possible reason for the grainery fire?**

 **2) How many people have an over 80% win rate?**

 **3) Whose diary does Illima Montoya find?**

 **Bonus: Who visits with the primary purpose of visiting Samuel? Naomi? (only one person will do for each)**

 **Happy Holidays**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	19. Interlude Part 1: First set of Trains

_**Train Rides Part 1;**_

 _Jakob Torser, District 13 Male_

 _Sitting Room Car, Train #13_

My partner and I are sitting on opposite ends of the main sitting room. Soldier- or I guess Neve, is currently in thought with her hands rapping against the glass side table next to her armchair. I fix the watch on my hand to check the time marked. Just as I confirm that the clock's time is still locked at 2:45, I look at the clock up to over Neve's head to see the clock slowly ticking and Neve's fingers still tapping. "Will you stop that?!" I shout.

"Is this disturbing you?" she asks, in dissonant serenity.

"Yeah, I'm trying to think. Didn't we learn that silence was golden in District 13?," I snark, a bit calmer this time to match her tone. "Sorry, just on edge." I suppose I was lying a bit, but with my father incapacitated, maybe the Capitol can get him some medicine to let him live just long enough to see me in the games. Or let him live long enough to see me die.

"I understand," she says. The next hour and a half is spent in silence as I gaze out the window, counting the clouds, the trees, the rivers, and the rocks before the train slows to a stop. "Where are we?" Neve asks.

"That's classified," our escort, a frivolous woman named Lissawakening, tells us. "The tracks of Panem have been extended and the railroads have more junctions. At this junction we'll meet up with your mentors. Do the two of you know what means?"

"We may have lived under rocks, but we know more of what's going on than you do with that weight on your shoulders," I snidely say. She sputters indignantly and turns her head. "So that's all you'll tell us?"

"Yep," she says snootily. The train doors open up with a loud whir, not at all dissimilar to the hood that my father worked under in his old chemistry lab. Two people, an attractive man of greyed hair and waif-ish woman in her early forties judging by her noticeable but minimal wrinkles, are between three peacekeepers. The peacekeepers march off and drop the two of them off with a salute.

The man dusts his jacket off and extends his hand. "I'm Joshua Strasson, District 7," he explains. "I'm not sure if your escort-"

"I'm Yana Epson, of District 4," the woman hastily interrupts. "Sorry babe, did you forget about little old me?"

"Darling you aren't that old," the man retorts. "As I was saying- I'm not sure if your escort explained, but as two previous victors, the two of us are to give you guidance, much like we would tributes of our own districts."

"For this year and this year only we'll manage the sponsor lines, guiding you. We're careers so we know a thing or two about charm," the woman, Yana, says.

"Now, Yana will take over the girl-Miss Orion from what I know, and I'll take care of you, Mr. Torser."

"So," I ask, walking to him. "Any tips?"

He looks to me with a slight smile, briefly looking at my watch and tapping a small tattoo of a cross on his finger. "Any mess can be cleaned up, but it'll take a lot of strength," he adds in a hasty whisper. I grab a cup of carbonated cider from the tray a servant gives out as Yana turns on the television. "You remind me of Alchyn."

"Who?"

"His favorite drink is Carbonated cider, but he likes the berry taste more. He also sat like you on our first date," he chuckles. "He's also a scrapper, based off of what I tell from you. I'm sure you can get your way out of a fight though."

"So I guess I should stay out?"

"Any siblings?" he asks. I nod a bit confused. "Friends?"

"Yeah," I say. "Helped them out with chemistry and math," I explain, elaborating on what they taught me. From Albany's limited knowledge of helpful plants, to Genevieve's penchant for acids, even Arthur's knot tying game, I tell him all I've learned from them. He nods along, telling me that that can help in the arena, but to find at least 1 ally.

It's not much but it helps.

 _Valonia Kalene, District 10 Female_

 _Dining Car, Train #10_

"It'll be several more hours until the reaping recap is going to play," one of our victors, Bingo, says. He rubs at his eyes and yawns for the 15th time in 30 minutes. The woman sitting across from him yawns as well, so does our escort, two other victors, and my District partner. I sit at the table, holding my plate an inch off of the table.

"Darling," Secretariat, my official mentor, dotes. "Let's put the plate down. Are you cold? We'll turn off the air conditioning for now." I timidly smile and continue to eat at my plate.

"The vegans were acting up out my house again," Veal, a middle aged man, says with a twinge of disgust. "It's the Peridos, the ones who opened a chicken coop only to fire a gun and scared them shitless into the river and threw the coop with them."

"Idiots," Lassy says. The rest of dinner is us poking at our food. I find myself liking the watermelon slices. They're cold and chilled. The seeds are distracting but I can eat them whole because they're small.

"Was your dinner like this?" Atticus, my tall District partner, asks timidly. "As in the one where you went to the capitol for the first time."

"Basically," Bingo says with a tired stretch. "I spent more time eating lobster than the loaf you're scarving down." We continue to eat together and before long I'm almost too stuffed to move. Atticus still chugs away at a platter of fruit, justifying that he still needs to eat to prepare just for a bit. Bingo, Atticus' mentor, walks over to the couch and lies down hugging a pillow. We can hear the snores, much to our escort's dismay.

"To think a fine ass as him just goes and does that!" he harrumphs. "Get used to it. The reapings will be on in a while, so we can play some of those games."

Lassy's eyes seem to glint teasingly as she pulls out a box. She opens it and out pops many dice. I hold onto a ruby one and look at it. The games...dad...used to play were with dice, but they were uneven and pointed and messy. Mom never let us touch them. Lassy makes a large flourish in pointing out the niches in each dice.

The sheer variety that she pulls out of her shirt pocket almost makes it spill off of the edge of the table. My dad's dice always had 6 sides and were about a quarter inch wide. These dice still are a quarter inch wide but they have sides of 4, 5, and 10 varieties. Lassy fans out the dice in a neat array and sets some of them under a plate. "We used to have some of these," I say.

"Hehe, did you get them from old Jan?" Lassy chuckles.

"Actually my dad got them. I don't know where. He was pretty good with making stuff out of wood. It uhh, we don't know where they are anymore.." I trail off. He usually kept them in a similar pocket in his shirt. Lassy explains the game to hold us over for some more hours.

"You may have to think of it soon, but for now, keep steady," Lassy tells me and Atticus. Secretariat gives a slip of paper to an avox, it looks to be of a recipe for Venison, judging by the VE from the top. Bingo still sleeps and Veal, the most forgettable of our victors, fixes a little tear in a pillow. I hold the dice in my hand and roll. Atticus does the same.

 _Aster Mallory, District 7 Male_

 _Tribute Quarter car #2, Train #7_

"Good...As...New…" I strain as I scrub the lint off of my dulled pencil. Since it's ridiculously small,much less than the distance of my first 2 knuckles. I tuck the pencil, supposing it to be my token, and put it in my pocket. I walk out the room just as the reaping replay goes on. My District partner, a girl with extraordinarily blond- almost white hair, sits on the table, sadly smiling as she makes a house of cards.

Merrion, my mentor, greets me warmly as the television cuts to a different pre-program. "Hard at work, have you? Your hands are red, and that's not from a lumberjack's axe."

I sputter before sitting down. "I was just washing a pencil I found. I think it's still wet," I explain.

"...Did I say something ridiculous?" he asks, almost innocently. I look at him with a raised eyebrow before looking back at the television. There's much scrutiny on the heinous act of the District 9 escort picking a boy before the girl, supposedly a buck in tradition. No attention is made of the pair of siblings that just got reaped. It gets tiresome looking at the reports and supposed documentaries of ancient District 7 ruins.

When I take a glance at my District partner, she's now investigating the deck of cards and determining which one to make for a old chateau. With no other option due to our mentors in heated conversations over their phones and portable computers I sit next to her. I have to start with someone to try to make nice I guess.

Juniper, I think her name is, still looks at the 52 cards individually and sets them up in an order that makes almost no rhyme or reason. I place my hand on the table and she jumps. "HI!" she shouts. "Sorry. Uhh, Aster, right?"

"Yeah, that's my name," I say. She smiles enthusiastically and scratches at her skin. "So what are you doing?"

"It helps. I like thinking about how it looks. See, since the two black queens- the spade and club queens, are the dutiful leaders of the land of mines. Their husbands are the red kings, from a war colony. Though they have been allies, the red kings also participate in a ritual, to verify their ability to be a chief." She becomes considerably more animated as she talks about the lay of the land of the Roulet.

"You have an active imagination," I note. She stiffens but smiles. "That's not a bad thing."

"Oh, I'm just used to hearing it as a bad thing," she trails off. She's nice, but gets onto tangents for her imaginary world...or worlds that she seemingly comes up with on a whim. We're about to continue our chat when Merrion and her mentor, our Quarter Quell victor Avril Vorell, calls us to the sitting room to watch the reaping recaps.

In District 1, the scuffle to the stage is doubled from a brawl of 5 for normal years to a brawl of 10 this year around. The two who prevail are a typical blonde girl who takes heaving breaths and smiles wildly and a brunette boy who is just as good looking as the District demands despite not being blond. District 2 has the male volunteer walk up unrivaled and confident while the girl is picked from the worthy priorities. It's a bit unusual but victors have come from District 2 when they're reaped.

In District 3, the two kids that come up are on the shorter side of panem, but a bit more average for District 3. The girl is short, dwarfed by her partner and the escort and even the mentors. District 4's volunteers are eye-catchingly stunning. The boy is a muscled handsome stud that makes a fair bit of the audience swoon and the girl is attractive but looks to be a bit younger, and a bit more impulsive. District 5 plucks up 2 kids who seem to know each other somewhat well and they look scared together.

District 6's guy looks strong if a little on the slender side. He wears a black baseball cap and holds himself much better than other male tributes. The girl tries to stride confidently on stage but ends up awkwardly fondling her ponytails. Juniper and I are called up with our families reduced to tears. Juniper begins to cry and I pinch my nose to avoid any excessive show.

District 8 doesn't pull up a show this time. Both tributes seem to be unremarkable and can easily blend into the crowd even when on the stage. The District 9 boy volunteers, fairly good looking and on the taller side, like the District 6 boy. He already looks like he stands a threat until his sister is pulled up next to him. The girls from the academy in District 9 don't go for her.

District 10's tributes both break down. The boy is relatively big but he seems to be losing resolve when on stage. The girl is a tiny 12 year old this time around. District 11 picks out a tough girl with a resting bitch face that looks out, bored but angry. The boy is younger this year, 13, and judging by the mayor's reaction has a strong connection to him. District 12 reaps a flighty and skinny boy who tries to escape, screaming obscenities, and the girl is another tiny 12 year old.

I sit up, taking a look at District 13. The room seems to be an old common room, an old cafeteria of sorts, with their new mayor and recently stationed peacekeepers on high platforms. First called is a short-ish girl from the 16 year olds who looks out to her friends and stands on stage resolute. The peacekeepers subtly enter the 18 year old boys section and the 17 year old girls section to quell a bit of dissent when the boy is called. He almost gets pushed out and gets up with something of an angry frown, but it does little to offset his handsome face.

The program ends with a close up on the 26 tributes. I'm ranked somewhere in the top 25% of favorites, a bit lower than the careers and volunteers, the District 13 boy and the District 11 girl. Juniper is somewhere in the middle. "A lot to take in," Avril notes.

"I guess now we know," I whisper. I can see allies in the midst but more importantly I see my enemies.

 _Kimberly McAuckswatch, District 4 Female_

 _Sitting Room, Train #4_

"Understood. Josh and Yana are at District 13 so I doubt we're getting their allyship," one of our mentors, a taller woman who won her games in the last decade, says as she types out. "Oh, hold on, Anemone is going to take over. Yeah. I'll let them know." Nymphia, my primary mentor, turns around in her chair to face the two of us. "We're going to try to stick traditional this year. Districts 7 and 9 might do their own thing but if you can, let the boys in," she says strictly.

She continues to ramble but I listen attentively. To my right Regan sits, perfecting his perfect sitting pose. I sit with my hands crossed as I flit my eyes to the current popularity polls and live reactions to the reapings. Even for a quell, the year seems to be kind of average. A lot of talk this year is on the District 13 tributes, who they describe as a diligent and hardworking girl and a hidden ball of potential.

Then to my shock my face is being discussed by some capitol interviewers. I'm a favorite but a bit too unpredictable, a good 'foil' to my partner, and a strong rescuer. Then they interview people about the careers but also draw attention to the District 11 girl. Competition this year is going to be thick. "Hear that Kim?" Regan asks.

I look around erratically. "No, sorry I didn't. I was just looking at the Tv," I explain. One of the older victors named Marcel scoffs in disdain and wheels his chair out of the room.

"Do you want anyone from 7,8, or 9?" Regan asks. "If you ask me Juniper and Aster are a pretty good pair."

"You remember Cecelia from the 56th? She was a strong tribute but otherwise looked as unremarkable as the 9 girl now," I speak up. Regan lightly nods but still looks hesitant. "I'll see what she has to offer, and see if district 8 is worth anything during training." The rest of the night is dotted with light munches from the tray of sweet appetizers and periodic glances at the updating magazine for our odds.

At random intervals I look up at the television and see a yellow stuffed bear, what the ribbon at the bottom of the page says is the new main mutt of the arena, talking about the arena. All the more curious I grab hold of the remote and after hitting no less than 15 buttons I get the ability to rewind the footage. The arena this year's going to be big but not all of the areas are going to be available to visit all the time. A hint of malice shows on the bear's face just as it walks off the stage while it lowly cackles.

"Maybe we should keep it small this year," Nymphia says. "A big arena is going to be hard to keep track of so many tributes." She's already getting to work tracing over a map of the arena. She teaches a mapmaking class both in the academy and for the District captains to-be.

When Regan lets out a stifled yawn I begin to yawn myself. "Head off to bed," Bruce says. "The two of you look like this last week hasn't been nice to you. It'd do you good to get some bed alam mo." I can only agree complacently when I begin to stand up. REgan and I walk to our quarters in silence. Before heading to bed I stop by the bathroom and hover over the toilet for three minutes only to have nothing come out. I guess I shouldn't be throwing up this close to the Hunger Games yet the girl in the mirror still doesn't get it.

I guess I'll have to learn.

 _Fabian Drason, District 3 Male_

 _Train #3, sleeping quarter_

Any chance I had at a good night's sleep is quashed when I wake up in the thick of the night to the train rumbling- or is that my stomach? As I sit up and get an urge of sickness I realize it's my stomach. I sit on the toilet in an uncomfortable position and glance at the clock. It's 1:30 capitol time, already tomorrow. In District 3 it'd be somewhere around 2:00. Panem's clock system always gets weird.

When I get up from the toilet, I scape at my eyes to find a small amount of tears. I wash my face dry and unsteadily walk to the dining room. As I pass through the three cars to reach the our dining car, a man who looks slightly older than I comes with me. "Hi," I say tiredly. When we walk into the dining room motions for me to sit and pulls out something of a menu. "I-I'll just take a cup of water."

His red gown seems to flutter with the light ventilation system as he reaches up to grab a dark blue mug and dispenses water. It's heated in a small version of the water heater that's made in District 3 factories that adds a small spoon to the mug. He sits with me on the other side of the table as I slowly sip at the mug. "What's your story?" I ask.

He shakes his head and makes some gestures with his hands. He...can't talk? "Anything you wanna tell me?" Again he makes a similar gesture but points me to my cup once again, almost demanding that I drink.

I keep my gaze on him even as he looks around the room quietly. I finish the cup of heated water, feeling infinitely better, but it's slightly mitigated when I glance behind me and see replays of the Hunger Games past going on. Batteron, one of our victors, notices me in the dining room and joins me at the table. "Rough night?" I nod my head tiredly. "You should get some sleep. You'll miss it in the arena."

"Who is that man?" I ask Batteron.

"He's an avox. They're punished by the Capitol for a crime and as such they can no longer talk. I don't know the stories but they mustn't have been popular with the Capitol," Batteron elaborates. "There are worse punishments, if you can believe that."

"I'll just watch one of those things you're watching. If I fall asleep, I fall asleep," I boredly say.

"The avox can have you hook up your television to the live feed of the replays, so you can watch there," Batteron directs. I get up silently, a bit miffed at him not really trying at this point. The avox follows me into my room, connecting wires and turning on the television before he leaves. There's a cup of milk at my side table that remains warmed, yet untouched.

I wrap a blanket around me, trying to stay comfortable. Then I put a set of 3 fluffy pillows in along my back to be safe. The Games playing are of Beetee's hunger games. In school they told us that Beetee was a recluse and never saw himself as worthy. Judging by his murder of the unorthodox career alliance in an unorthodox way, I can understand.

The film ends with mentions of his track records of victors that he's helped out, the most prosperous being Wiress Casio in spite of her mild quirks. The video is about to start on Wiress' Hunger Games when I slowly go to sleep, tuning out the television. I hope that the others in District 3 are doing well.

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **So I've been working for a while on this chapter, after thinking a lot on the state of the sponsorship. So I've come to this conclusion: The increase rate will now be 4^x + initial where x is every announcement period and the initial prices shall be doubled. To clarify:**

 _Sponsorship for the Sixth Quarter Quell_

 _ **Food:**_

 _Dried Fruit: 8 points_

 _Fresh Fruit: 16 points_

 _Dried Meat: 24 points_

 _Fresh Meat: 28 points_

 _Small meal-bowl of soup, saltine crackers, and three slices of fresh fruit: 40 points_

 _Medium meal-customizable sandwich with 2 toppings, dried meat, and one whole fruit: 56 points_

 _Large meal-3 slices of fresh meat, 1 customizable sandwich, 1 small bowl of soup, 2 fresh fruits: 84 points_

 _ **Water:**_

 _Water skin:8 points_

 _1.5 liter of water: 12 points_

 _1 gallon pitcher full of water: 24 points_

 _3 gallon pitcher of water: 28 points_

 _Iodine: 32 points_

 _ **Medicine:**_

 _All purpose Cream: 16 points_

 _Bandages: 24 points_

 _Gauze: 24 points_

 _Splint: 40 points_

 _Sleeping Syrup: 44 points_

 _Pack of wound dressers: 52 points_

 _Adrenaline shot: 64 points_

 _ **Comfort Items:**_

 _Piece of Paper & Pen: 12 points_

 _Blanket: 16 points_

 _Tent: 28 points_

 _Letter from home: 28 points_

 _Full set of clothes: 32 points_

 **Again I apologize for this increase, but upon tallying the points I realize at the rate I'm giving them out everyone will get packages and packages of gifts-though given that this looks to be the best quell yet capitolitans will be willing to shell out their third mortgage for these teens.**

 **This chapter's questions will all be worth the same points:**

1\. What drink does Jakob grab from the tray? (2 points)

2\. How wide does Valonia estimate the dice to be? (2 points)

3\. Where is Aster ranked in the initial polls?(2 points)

4\. Which victor does Kimberly mention? (2 points)

5\. About what time is it in District 3 when Fabian wakes up?(2 points)

Bonus: List 3 mentors (first and last names). [one point per victor]

 **Thanks for sticking through with me, and sorry for the change- be sure to vote on the poll :)**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	20. Interlude Part 2: Arrival on the Trains

_**Train Rides, Part 2;**_

 _Naette Quill, District 12 Female_

 _Dining Room Car, Train #12_

Breakfast today is easier to stomach than yesterday's late dinner. Right now I'm slowly making my way through the piles of food on my plate as Lillian looks over me. "Keep eating, I'm sure you had too many tesserae," she says sadly. She's old for District 12 standards, 65 lucky years old, and her skin is beginning to wrinkle but her hair is still full. A lot of people I met at the toy shop weren't even 40.

"Where is that boy," Erudite's mentor grumbles. Like Lillian, he's old too. Like one of the oldest five in the District at 76. "Last night I caught him digging into a pillow and tearing apart the fluff."

"Ill check on him," Krystin volunteers. She was the most unexpected victor from District 12 according to the documentary playing on the television. She's only 21 and she won the 144th Hunger games, a lucky number. She's about to leave when Erudite runs into the room and shovels some bacon in his hands. "Found him," she jokes.

"Now that you two are here, do you two want to ally?" Lillian asks in a grandmotherly tone.

I look at Erudite as he finishes twelve more pieces of bacon, eats 4 miniature pancakes, and dips his tongue in some water. He's about to speak when he suddenly goes green and runs to the restroom, runs back, runs to the restroom, and settles on throwing up in the trash can. "I- I don't know," I mumble.

Ketrin sighs. "Dithering killed so many of our tributes, but better to dither now than dither when facing another tribute," he muses. I remember in Panem History class last year he was about to die when the District 2 victor asked him a question and he thought about it too long.

Erudite stands up from kneeling over the trash can and wipes his mouth of any last bits of vomit. Standing over me he asks, "Telia?"

"Who?"

"You know her? A little girl? Five years old?" he asks again. I shake my head fearfully but he glares at me intently. "I know that anyone who's ever set foot in the old toy store is exposed to the air that makes people connected thanks to the capitol ventilation system. Telia, I know you can hear me. Just try to live. TRY TO LIVE TELIA!"

I push myself away from Erudite as he gets in a shouting match with Ketrin. I retreat to the couch and sit, holding a pillow as Kristyn cradles her belly and drinks from a cup of heated water. The footage on screen is of the fashion that will get into the parade. Some are of royalty, some are of average people, but they all look well made if a little simple.

The video cuts away to some of the source material they're using to make the arena. It's weird that they're showing all of this to us. A toy is already being made of the Arena If my parents have that in the store I hope they'd burn it already. There are more toys of the main mutt. There are going to be so many mutts in the arena, based off of what Ketrin and Kristyn have all said. "Naette," Lillian says as she walks to me. "We'll be entering the capitol in several hours. Paparazzi will be lined up. You can look out the window but don't look too excited."

"What?" I ask confused.

"Your image would probably be best as the cute one. There are three other 12 year olds this year, and District 10 may give you a running. But you can be the shy cute one," she says reluctantly.

"Cute works," I say. I look out the window as we pass through miles and miles of rocky coast. The tracks have led us through many environments. I think it's because we're all supposed to arrive at the same time. Erudite and Ketrin finish their argument by slamming a plate on the floor. A servant follows Erudite as he slams the door to his quarters. The servant limps on, wincing at the glass in his feet.

I can see Ketrin sigh with his head in his hands. "It's always the same thing…" he mumbles. "It's always the same thing."

 _Samuel Palmer, District 9 Male_

 _Male Tribute Bedroom car, Train #9_

For a long time after breakfast I've been in my room, sitting on my bed, looking at the wall. Naomi and I need to stick together. I sit with anger at our escort...if she'd went the normal route then Naomi could have been saved...or I wouldn't have volunteered, I'd've just left it up to the others…

I grab a pillow and tear at its sides. It's harder than I expected yet the fluff still falls at my feet. With tears running down I run to the door and open it up, almost running into Gerald. "Samuel, you shouldn't be closing yourself off."

I breathe heavily, rubbing at my eyes to dry my tears and holding my breath. "I accepted the volunteer position...if I won then Naomi would have lived with me…"

"It's a harsh reality but Caleb and Nadia aren't letting you give up just yet," Gerald says determinedly. "You need fluids, you look like a sandworm after a drought."

He knocks on Naomi's door and she comes out, holding a pillow hesitantly and waiting a while before Nadia comes to get her. "I'm sure that you'll be fine," Nadia tells her. I think it's really their first time dealing with siblings...I could honestly be wrong but they've been in the games often. Gerald's personal communicator begins to buzz and he smiles when he sees the message.

"Looks like District 9 is the gimmick this year," he says. "None of the kids picked in the other Districts were victor kids nor siblings nor family. It's basically custom at this point to have a pair of family members and/or a victor kid in a quarter quell," he adds when I look at him confused.

The live poll is the only thing on the television right now. There's a lot of movement on the chart, with the girl from District 1, the boy from District 2, the boy from District 4, the boy from District 13, the girl from District 11, and-ME?!- all having been at the top of the chart at least once. It may be easier to say who hasn't been at the top, and unfortunately Naomi is one of them. The 12 year olds this year, District 8, the girl from District 7, the two from District 3, all haven't been at the top either. At least from what I interpret.

"Ok, thank you," Nadia says. With a sigh she puts a hand on Naomi's head. "You and Samuel just might have an alliance with District 7. The girl is open to it."

I smile, only for it to fade when I consider the possibilities. She's probably been trained, guaranteed to have bene with an axe, and is probably attractive. "But wouldn't she distract from the two of us?" I ask worriedly.

"The careers are trying to be traditional this year, so Samuel you're probably going to have to lead the Underdog alliance," Caleb says. He pulls out his typewriter and finishes about 20 clacks before talking to me again. "I don't think you want to abandon Naomi."

"NO!" The avox drops a tray in shock and picks up the contents from the ground. "I don't want any of us to die!"

Our escort winces and turns back to his gossip magazine while applying eyeliner. "Like it or not that's going to have to be a choice you'll have to make," Caleb says bluntly. I begin to cry again and he lets me sit next to him. "We'll prolong that choice for as long as we can then."

"Please," Naomi and i say at the same time.

"Samuel," Naomi speaks up. "I'll join a separate alliance to not drag you down," she says sadly. "I don't want to see you cry. I don't want to have you kill me either."

"It'll work out," I say to comfort her and me. "I won't try to hurt you."

 _Janine Midnight, District 6 Female_

 _Kitchen Car, Train #5_

The clock above the stove right now says that it's 1:43. About this time in District 6 I would have just finished wrangling the guys for a race, maybe arguing with Jet, Holos, or Yves. "Or maybe both at the same time," I joke to myself. "Yeah…"

I shake my head, sitting on the floor and fidgeting with my father's keychain. I have to wonder if the Capitol will have it sometime during the Hunger Games. When the the dishwasher's cycle finishes for the last time I get up from my spot on the floor and join Adam and his mentor, Mayor Sakon. "I've stayed off the bottle, been working, I know how to throw a punch," Adam says calmly.

"Are you holding back?" Mayor Sakon asks erratically. He hasn't been mentoring in awhile so I'm sure that his volume control is a bit off. "I think there's more."

Kindred sits next to me and holds up several toy magazines. "The kids I've seen like going through this," she says airily. "Do you want to talk about anything you like?"

I flip through the book, stopping at an image of a new model of a skateboard, dad could have probably gotten that to me. "Andominus Ramphrees' new model skateboard, lightweight and made from special District 3 metal mined from District 2," the magazine speaks out.

Without warning I'm practically thrown from my chair and onto the ground but regain my balance. "WHAT WAS THAT?!" I shout at Kindred.

"Nice balance," she says. "Can you do a flip?"

"Need my board for that," I grumble. I look at Adam and see him stifling a smile. "Go ahead bro, you can laugh, just don't pull a muscle."

He rolls his eyes and looks at the tablet Mayor Sakon put in front of him. Kindred pulls out her own tablet and presses some buttons to play some video of the games before. The girl on screen has successfully evaded three of the four lizard mutts charging on her. She bumps into a boy who looks like he's from District 3. The boy, bigger than most but only the same size as the girl, charges at her. She jumps over him and pushes him into the last lizard mutt. The girl smirks and continues running but the lizard mutts slow down behind her.

"I can't do anything like that," I sadly say. The girl down there is two years older than I am, has been training, and more importantly became the eventual winner of the 5th quarter quell. "I can run, if that's what you want."

"Ever hear of fight, flee, feed, and fornicate?" I shake my head and raise my eyebrow at the last one. "You really only need the one of the first two and feed. District 6 can flee, let me tell you that." She turns to Adam and shouts that he can fight. District 6 has volume control issues.

I'm assuming that whatever fornicate is, it isn't something that tributes use to intimidate other, or at the very least something 14 year olds shouldn't be concerned with. "Visit the survival stations," Mayor Sakon chimes in. He won the fourth quarter quell with the District 12 girl, only the second time that's happened. "The quell will never be anything we've seen before."

"I heard the first quell sent in criminals," I think out loud. "The second doubled, the third extended the age range, the fourth had 2 victors, and the fifth kidnapped a bunch of people."

"For the most part you're right," Mayor Sakon says.

"My brother said that the third quell was done to try to get a District 12 girl-something Everdeen- in the Hunger Games," Adam says. He takes off his hat and smoothes his hair out before fastening it back on. "Haven't been to school so I don't really know the details."

"The third quell was for family members of victors," Mayor SAkon corrects. "The girl was Primrose Everdeen. She was reaped two times in a row and volunteered for two times in a row. You may know her sister, Katniss."

"What happened to her?" Bunny asks, looking up for the first time from her puzzle.

"She was dead my year," Mayor Sakon says. "I worry for District 12 now."

"You always have been," Kindred notes.

 _Nikos Marbello, District 1 Male_

 _Living Room Car, Train #1_

"Remember dears," our escort titters. After far too much conversation both Layla and I learned that he was one of three escorts so honored to be with the career Districts. It's his first year and he's fairly ditzy. "Remember to smile, remember to pop out what District 1 is most known for."

Layla rolls her eyes and shakes her chest as if to confirm that she knows. "Save it for the cameras," her mentor, one of the District's deliciously sexy victoress' tells her. "So Nikos," she says. "What's your job background?"

"Furrier," I say automatically. I tilt my head back and run my hand through my hair, vaguely aware of Layla fanning herself. "My sister works with my father. She's due to take over once this Hunger Games finishes."

Divine nods, impressed, and sips from his ice cold glass of water. "Charm is best in the training days, be sure of that," he notes. "That boy from District 4 is probably going to be the other seducer of the guys. Layla, you may have some competition."

"Competition or playmates?" she says with a light giggle. "I'm sure I can judge the competition. If not a club will be headed their way."

"A club? That isn't womanly or beautiful," Escort Finnezi says.

"REally? You're concerned with how womanly I might come off? A club is a great weapon," Layla defends. "My dad always saw our victors as victors beautiful, no matter the club, knife, or sword. He still does but he's more silent about it." She eagerly bites off a cracker from the platter in front of the bunch of us and winks.

"Hunger Games 82, Aubry Adrius made ⅔ of his kills with a club," I chime in. "And what is a womanly weapon?"

Finnezi rolls his eyes and returns to filing his nails. "My mom likes how I use the club," Layla notes.

"Jasper said it was hard to use it," I murmur. Jasper's watch, broken, now is wrapped around my wrist tightly, causing some imprints to appear. "He liked swords but more of the short variety." I'm sure that where he is he'd still like using them.

Layla continues to talk with Glisten as Divine and I rest in uneasy silence while replaying the footage of the reaping to single out threats. He stated yesterday that every single tribute is a threat but now we've noted the largest threat. "The thing I forgot to tell you-" he speaks up "-at several points you're going to be the biggest threat to your survival."

I blink. Somehow, I understand, but I'm still a bit overwhelmed at that statement. There's.. "There's going to be something holding me back?"

"Yes," Divine says. "Can you push through having your throat burned? Can you push through the broken hand after a failed climb? Can you push through the thoughts of your dead brother?"

Silence again. Now Glisten and Layla are looking at the two of us. "You know about Jasper?" I whisper.

He nods. "I assume Jasper Marbello but we've had at least five recruits named Jasper per year ever since the last quarter quell. IT's a common name. Nikos, you're going to have move on if you want to survive."

I hold Jasper's watch in the palm of my hand tightly. Even though I'm unsure, the words that fall out are that "I am." Divine and Glisten look up as the lights suddenly go dark and we seem to speed by hundreds of feet of brick. When the brick is gone it's replaced by a kaleidoscope of candy colors and sugar glass.

The train pulls into a massive station large enough for seven dozen trains at once. The train slows to a stop and the doors open to sea of multi-colored people with loud cameras flashing. Layla and I stick smiles to our face and try to work our charms on the crowd. Several more trains rumble in and are equally surrounded by just as many members of the paparazzi as we're taken from our mentors and guided into the prep building.

Ready or not we all are here.

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **So, this chapter may not be as good quality, but I hope that this was enjoyable nonetheless. Some bits of exposition in several chapters, some character development, I'm sure that you guys can determine some plots.**

 **Also I have a couple of questions for you all:  
What do you think of tributes escaping? How many would you like to see escape? (it may factor into a plot-no sponsor points)  
If your tribute could have a talent, what would it be? (for those of us who know Danganronpa, think of it as their ultimate title-like Judy Hopps would be Ultimate Cop, Nick Wilde would be Ultimate Con Artist, Stitch would be Ultimate Genetic Experiment, Simba would be Ultimate Heir, Rapunzel would be Ultimate Healer, etc.)**

 **Questions:**

 **1\. Why is the 144th Games a lucky hunger games for District _12_ to win? (4 points)**

 **2\. Name one of the two gimmicks Caleb pointed out(1 point)**

 **3\. Who is the girl in the video that Mayor Sakon shows to Adam and Janine? (3 points)**

 **4\. How many recruits named Jasper have appeared since the last quarter quell (1 point)**

 **Be sure to vote on the poll if you** **haven't. The ideal layout for the next three chapters will be:  
Pre-chariot Prep (2 tributes, one gamemaker)  
Parade(Hera's perspective)  
Post-parade relaxation(2 tribute perspectives)**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	21. Parade Prep

_**Capitol Preparation**_

 _Vinnicia Blushweather, 36 years old, Gamemaker_

 _One hour before arrival_

 _The president wants to see you now._ No...why now?! Why? I thought I was safe, thought I was with the right people, thought I was doing perfect. I don't even have the luxury to walk to the president's residence and am taken away in blindfolds to her office.

I need to get out. My hands are strapped to some arm rests, legs bound together, duct tape closed around my mouth, and eyes firmly shut. It doesn't take long before the president releases the blindfold covering my eyes. I try to scream but she hushes me, sliding her finger where my mouth would be. "Do you know why you're here?"

I shake my head no. I can't reveal too much. The boss will still kill me even if I get out here alive. The president adopts a snake grin and titters to herself. "It's a shame you caught me so close to the beginning of the hunger games," she says. "You do know I get a bit more sadistic this time of year."

The duct tape begins to loosen. It's about to fall off naturally when she reaches up and yanks it off. I scream in pain for too long of a time and breathe heavily. "I did what had to be done."

"Yet you tipped your hand too much," she says coldly. "You realize that death is imminent for you. We lost a copy of a map and do you know where it is?" I shake my head and she rolls her eyes. "If I wasn't the president I'd let you go. Now that I am, you're just going to have to go like our other prisoners At the very least you had great ideas in recovering the original designs from Disney. I refuse to learn how you did it, but recovery is truly going to be a lost art when you're gone in a blaze of glory."

She leaves the massive expanse, heels clicking behind her. "Don't worry about your family, they've all been taken care of." It's the last thing I hear before the massive warehouse fills with gas and I'm knocked out.

 _Jon Cheris, 14 years old, District 5 Male_

 _District 5 prep room: 30 minutes post arrival_

The bathrobe sits at the edge of the sofa I wait on. It's pristinely white and almost blinding. If it was in the arena then it could probably be a trap, something to cover over someone, and maybe I can use the strap to tie some clothes together? Maybe use it as a tripwire? Or something to strangle?

I push those thoughts out of my head and focus on the television in front of me. Some ugly dude, labeled as Calieron Edgebono, with black hair and black eyes and yellow teeth, speaks on behalf of his girlfriend and his girlfriend's mother about the reaping. On another half of the screen is a live feed of the favorites. Like yesterday they've been cycling through favorites, with drastic changes being noted as the quell brings in much more money than usual. It's the same thing though, District 4, 2, 1, 13, 7, 9, 11, 6 all cycling through the favorites and barely paying attention to any of us from 3, 10, 12, 8, or 5.

I'm worried. I begin to feel a cold shiver down my spine from the vent and put on the bathrobe. I continue watching the feed, seeing my name and Nidawi's flip back and forth often, maybe cycling with the girl from District 3. The magazine in front of me shows my height at 5'4" and several bits of trivia. It scares me how quickly they got those facts.

The door opens and a snippy looking man comes in with scissors open. "Please take off your bathrobe or I'll cut it off," he says. I do as he says slowly but he claps at me to quicken my pace. "Please drink that water over there," he says while pointing to a cup. I gulp the contents of it down and stand perfectly still. He's not unattractive but I still feel uncomfortable after all the trimming and scrubbing they've done with me.

He touches a portion of the wall to reveal something simple. "A striped polo and blue shorts?" I ask reluctantly.

"It would do you some good to ask for my name, Jon."

"Then what is your name?"

"Avante Delace," he says flamboyantly. Somehow I can see Yusef doing that exact same gesture. "This year the president and interviewer wished for the chariot outfits to be simple but attractive."

Gesticulating wildly, he picks up the outfit and holds it to me. "I know that even in District 5 they have stuff like this, so please put it on."

The polo slides over my head easily, even though the head hole seems slightly triangular and roomy as a result. I slide on the underwear given with the outfit and the shorts, finding them a better fit. "Fits well," I note.

"It should," he says disdainfully. "Let's see how you walk in them before you put on your shoes."

Avante holds up two blue sneakers. "That's it?" he nods, bored. "It's a fine outfit if you're mad at that."

"Thank you dear but that isn't it. I wanted this year to challenge me, so that I could prevail among all the other artists challenged and hold it as bragging rights," he sighs. I put on the sneakers and he brightens up, letting me pose, jump, and smile in the outfit. It's fake but he seems to smile. His notes that he lays flat on the table reads that this outfit is of Phineas Flynn from the Phineas and Ferb universe. "When he knew what he was going to do today he looked just like you, except as a redhead."

He turns up the volume on the television, revealing a poll that describes who supports who. With only one or two exceptions, I don't think District 5 has generated much buzz among the capitol. Neither has District 8 but a lot more people are focused on them, looking at three previous victors, Niccety Burnage, Cecelia Turner, and Wendell Stitches to show how well they've done.

The polls now flicker back and forth to an image of the all time victor rankings and images of old kills. A feed of a boy from District 5 (I know from the red hair and tanned skin) is cut off abruptly and replaced with an image of the very first kills, the District 5 boy driving a pickaxe into the girl and the girl throwing a knife into his eye. I gulp, knowing that Nidawi wouldn't do that but still unsettled nonetheless.

"Let's head down," Avante commands, holding the door open. I dive under his frivolous outfit and duck into the elevator. I'm among the first 6 to arrive. Most of the other tributes I've seen are taller than I, but there are like four I think are shorter. I'm still intimidated by the sheer size of where the chariots wait. "Do you know where your chariot is?"

"I can read," I grumble as Avante tries to point me in my direction. The fifth chariot is empty and in between a chariot painted like the sea and a chariot painted like a bullet train. I wait in my yellow painted chariot for Nidawi, hoping that they aren't giving her a beak.

 _Antoinette Vermur, 18 years old, District 2 Female_

 _Chariot Prep, 40 minutes before Parade Start_

"My oh my look at this lovely warrior," I hear a compliment come from my left. I turn with a smile on my face and my bun high in the air. The District 1 girl is swaggering up to me in her purple gown that leaves little of her breasts to the imagination. "Look at this strong stud right here, tell me, your name is?"

"An," I say confidently. She recoils in shock before resting her elbow on my shoulder pads. "Antoinette Vermur."

"Ah," she says pensively. "You look just as studdingly beautiful as the guys back home."

With a half smile I pick up on what she wants me to do and curl her close to me. "I take it, dear maiden, that we are in fact guaranteed together?"

"Oh but of course," she says with a wink. "Would not want to bring dishonor upon all of our cows, would we?"

"That we would not," I say, a bit confused. She titters and tries to talk with me but is upstaged by the District 4 boy, shirtless and in a grass skirt. The District 1 girl goes to dive behind the chariot for a while. I can hear a scream before she comes out, just as pristine looking but a bit frazzled. "And who might you be?"

"Regan Attwater," he says seductively. He holds his hand out in a lax handshake gesture, which I take surprisingly smoothly. "Who are we waiting on?"

"My partner, Desmond Pick," I say promptly.

"And mine," the District 1 girl says. "The name is Layla. Just rolls off your tongue, doesn't it?"

"Sure does," Regan says. "So do we want it to be just the original careers?"

"I don't see a problem with that," Layla from District 1 says. "It would be fun if we got District 9 and 7 under us."

"It's tradition for District 2 not to attack District 8," I say defensively. "But I don't think that we'll let them in," I add in a hushed whisper. The three of us wait, looking around our three chariots and waiting for our partners.

First to come down is my District partner, who is dressed in some old culture's armor that highlights his muscles well. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen" he says politely. "The name is Desmond Pick."

Layla and Regan both hold out their hands to him. I can see that they're both trying to compete as a seductor or a seductress. It's almost comical. The elevator next brings down three dark skinned tributes, two girls on opposite ends of height and a dark skinned scared boy-the mayor's son- in the center. The girl sees us and hastens up, to Layla's jeers.

The next elevators come in quick succession. The girl looks to be Regan's partner, whose in a similar designed skirt and red shirt ensemble. I recognize the boy who trails behind her as Layla's nervous District partner, who is clutching something in his hands tightly. He waves kindly and introduces himself and the girl. "I'm Nikos and this is Kim, right?"

"Yeah, you got it," she says enthusiastically. She's fairly slender for someone who looks to be a rescuer, about the same height as the rest of us. "So, traditional?"

Regan winks and stretches his arms, flexing his muscles as he stretches. "I think we need to make way," he says with a laugh. A small girl is coming in our direction. "Are you lost?"

"No," she says as calmly as she can muster. She has four circular plates, one on each of her wrists and ankles, and a yellow helmet. "I-I think that's my chariot you're talking in front of."

"Is it?" Nikos says with an almost uncomfortable sneer. "Let's go then, you clearly need to get in front of it now." The sense of sarcasm is definitely tangible right now. Layla and Desmond let out a light chuckle and Nikos' face seems to light up under his curly hair.

"Umm," we hear a boy ask. "Is something the matter? Why are you guys in front of our chariot?"

I turn to him, glancing down at his small frame. Like his partner, he's fairly short, but actually seems to be on the taller side of teens in his district if I remember his age correctly. "Listen, we'll be moving in time for the chariots, don't get your knickers in a twist."

He turns away frowning but talking to the short girl comfortingly. I'm sure they'll get over it. Desmond and I decide to retreat to our chariot when the massive clock on one wall says that it's five minutes before launch. I send a flirtatious wink to Layla, who giggles, and turn to Desmond. "Nothing wrong with harmless interaction, right?"

"Nothing wrong with that, but I don't know about you, but I just kind of want to practice stoicism," he says almost jokingly. "Scope out the others."

"As in-"

"Not that way. Never felt that way nor do I desire to," he explains. I take his hint and look to the left of me as Layla and Nikos pile into their chariots. On my right I can see Desmond craning his neck to look at some of the threats down the line. I can barely see District 2's usual partner District, 8, in between the crowd of people. I still think that they may be useful, but I'm going to have to talk with them privately.

The clock hits 4 minutes until launch when I notice just how simply a majority of us are dressed. It's a distracting thought but I keep taking a glance at the District 3 tributes, who kind of more out there and futuristic than the polo wearing District 5 boy or the red gown wearing District 10 girl. "Looks like it's about time," Desmond says. I snap out of my distracting thought and face him. I can hear District 1's chariot roll out of its keep just as we both face forward.

When we lurch forward, the Hunger Games have begun, and we're all too willing to participate.

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **I bet you guys didn't think I'd update this fast! So, I hope you enjoyed this quick little chapter about Capitol prep. I do mention some victor names in this chapter but they will be covered in another fanfiction, my work titled 'A Century and a Half of Hunger Games' so if you'd like a bit more information on worldbuilding be sure to check that out (87th Victor so far :))**

 **So this time around I'll ask you guys if you have a...preferred execution method for your characters. If you need inspiration I'd suggest looking back at the prologue chapters for some ideas, and there will be one next chapter for the Parade. They can be as elaborate as you want.**

 **Sponsor Questions:**

 **1\. How old is Vinnicia? (1 point)**

 **2\. Describe the first kills of the Hunger Games (2 points)**

 **3\. Which District tries to pass by the careers as they talk? (3 points)**

 **Hopping out,**

 **Hopps**


	22. Capitol Parade

_**The Parade**_

 _Hera Iode, 38 years old, Emcee & Interviewer_

 _6:00 Capitol Time_

I stand at the booth gazing down at the wide street that the tributes will pass through. President Sleet's mansion is at the end of the mighty walkway, about a mile or less away from the tribute's starting position at the tribute residency building. The commentator booth is large enough for two co-hosts - but the last time the Emcee and the Interviewer were separate roles was the 78th Hunger Games.

The colorful capitol crowd sits below me all anxiously waiting. I can see the victors below me and to the left hastily chatting away as we have several peacekeeper troops all lined up to protect them should something happen. I get a message from my husband from my phone. "Take care up there, I'll be waiting for your voice at the bar."

I sigh lightly and sit properly as the cameras are set in position. I know that just below me are the gamemakers. Despite allowing their faces on camera, their names are not to be learned, thank goodness for plastic surgery. I fluff up my shoulder pads and shuffle the papers in front when I see the light signifying the tributes are on a roll is on. The cameraman counts down from 3 and points to me.

"HELLO PANEM!" I say enthusiastically. "Welcome to the 150th tribute parade. Here for my fourteenth parade I am, and I'll be here for all the commentary with the ball rolling. So let's get it started with...DISTRICT 1"

"And here the chariot is, pulled by two white horses adorned in a fabulous sun motif. Our two volunteers are dressed up with inspiration from the old Disney folktale of Rapunzel. Layla Ranevall is sporting an elegant purple gown of three thousand threads per square inch with long flowing hair just behind her. And-is that a little chameleon on her shoulder? Nikos Marbello's frame is smoothly accented by that blue vest atop a white dress shirt. He's also complemented by a khaki belt taht wraps around his waist. If you're looking at your guide you very well can see that these two just knock Rapunzel and Flynn Rider's inspiration out of the park." They get thundrous applause. Layla portrays the enthusiastic flirt after several awkward shakes of her head and Nikos, though awkward, is nailing his smoulder.

"Rolling up straight after them are our two warriors from District 2. While they may have been warriors in the past, this design is taken from storyteller Disney's interpretations of the legend of Fa Mulan. Clad in the flowing red cape is Desmond Pick, with noble chest armor that valiantly pops out and white undersleeves that is sure to keep a tease. Next to him is Antoinette Vermur in a high and proper bun with green tinted armor, evocative of China, and the sacrifices this ancient hero made for her father. Let's give it up!" Antoinette and Desmond get a different, more proper reaction, since District 2 is less overt with their frames and attract the same fans, but they still get great applause.

"District 3 this time around definitely has the look of the future! Two super heroes from Disney's past, Hiro Hamada and Gogo Tomago are faithfully recreated with these two marvelous District 3 tributes. The boy's helmet may be hiding his messy hair but you can look in his face to see the glimmer of intelligence of a one Fabian Drason. Complimenting his purple colored armor is the girl on wheels, Zippina Cayen! She looks like she's raring to go under her yellow top armor and smooth black pants, but don't get too close to those wheels on her wrists and ankles!" The two of them actually appear to be energetic, waving enthusiastically but seem to be overwhelmed

"Be sure to wave hello to District 4 as they slide on by, with blue furred and red maned horses, they'll be a sight for all to see. And yes, they truly are a sight to _sea_ as they come rolling in." I really hate having to make puns but I'm just reading off a script that the stylists are giving me. "District 4's girl this year, Kimberly McAuckswatch, is sporting a beautifully embroidered white skirt evocative of the white sands lining some of District 4's open shores. Her red crop top is certainly eye popping enough to hearken back to that old polynesian design. Regan Attwater, a current favorite, is not one to disappoint with his glass fish hook and grass skirt. No shirt of course, just like the true hero of the waves." It's easy to spot Irradia's daughter in the crowd as she's being held by her boyfriend. Her reaction is common in the crowd as people virtually leap to get closer to the two of them.

"Now this year, District 5 has gone to time of a little simpler past, a time of 104 days of summer vacation. Though modest, you can surely see that all these two need is a cute outfit or two to represent the summers long past. Phineas Flynn Fletcher, represented through our own Jon Cheris, has his trademark orange and white striped polo and cool blue sneakers. Jon's still got his chestnut brown hair so you can easily recognize him. And look at cute little Nidawi! In her pink dress, pink bow, and white undershirt, she's definitely got that 'girl next door' look down pat. Give it up for District 5!" Their outfit isn't as complex as the other Districts and they get applause but it isn't as much as the other Districts.

"With something new this year, we have two of District 6's finest dressed as two of Zootopia's officers. Clearly with her grey dyed hair (which washes after every shower) and purple contact, you can definitely see Zootopia's finest officer in Janine Midnight's spunky little frame! Even under that dark black police vest you can see Janine's all ready to hit the ground running. Taking a more lackadasical approach is District 6's own Adam Cufole. With his hair dyed a bright red (which washes after every shower) and a lime green shirt, casual is definitely his new black." Since the boys are on the older side they're probably the eye candy this time around, but with her spunk most of the capitol is sure that she'll grow to be a beautiful woman.

"From the forests of District 7 are two statuesque stunners, Juniper Aspens and Astor Mallory, both representing the nature that slowly holds much of the Districts in a gentle cradle and painting the forest with a palette of all the colors of the wind. Aster is dressed as a mighty explorer, clad in a beautiful palette of a blue vest, teal shirt, and navy pants. That brown strap is definitely evocative of an explorer, and it goes along well with Juniper's clothing. She's definitely wearing the look of an ancient Native American with regal beauty and general knowledge. Just think of what she's imagining!" Several boys I see are lurching forward, catching my own husband with a shoulder on our twelve year old son. He was so disappointed when I told him he couldn't participate, but he always likes seeing the 'pretty girls' on the parades.

There's a brief pause because the horses are acting up in the array. Already images are going to flood the Capitol internet. Based on what I'm getting from the communicator, one of the district 12 horses is going haywire and is trying to kick up a storm. Luckily the situation passes without much more of a hitch.

"Here comes the most underrated of the six careers, District 8! Many of us know District 8 as a land of towering factories and cramped quarters, not unlike District 6, if only leagues stronger. This time around we have two lovely tributes dressed as two lovely characters from the lost city of New York. Dressed in smooth attire as Dodger, a cool hip dog with street savoire-faire, is young Jensen Allard. He may be the only male 12 year old this year but he stands quite tall if you ask me, and he's sporting an easily identifiable red ascot. Adjacent to our street smart pup is District 8's own Lenora Cotton, fabulously sporting a floofy outfit to emulate the rich standards of Georgette. Absolutely fabulous, she's working her small charms on the crowd already." Lenora has actually been attracting a sizable fanbase, the most viable underdog from what others are immediately calling her, and Jensen seems to be a soft favorite for District 8.

"District 9 is now rolling in. The loving sibling pair of Samuel and Naomi Palmer, in simple but effective attire as Wreck-it Ralph and Vanellope Von Schweetz. Samuel's definitely packing in that lean muscle department given his lopsided and lowhanging red polo and overall combination. You can see that he's just raring to go for the Hunger Games. Naomi's got that cute little angle up for little mischief maker Vanellope, holding her hands tightly in her sweater and flaunting her brown hair behind her. Definitely watch out for District 9." The response for Samuel is surprisingly similar for District 1-but now that I think of it, District 1 and 9 have been pretty similar in the career standings ability wise. Hell the first victor couple were from those Districts, so stranger things have happened.

"Our friends from the livestock district may have been able to slip under the radar for now, but here they are, dressed in simply pretty and simply handsome clothing. That tall stud over there is Atticus Landry, dressed in two complimenting different shades of blue. That blue attena in his hair? No worries, it'll wash out, and there was no need to get... _Stitched_." I recover from the pun I was forced to read and continue. "Right next to him, that cute little girl in a red flowing gown of white flowers and adorably brown sandals is Valionia Kalene, dressed as Stitch's owner Lilo. Let's give it up for District 10." The appluase is still loud but I can tell that some of the audience has their interest waning, though the fact that one of District 4's victors was named Lilo catches the eye of several blogs.

"Straight outta the farms that dot the wild lands of District 11 are two fantabulous tributes from two very different ways of life. Our statuesque stunner of ebony beauty is the one and only Ember Hayfield. While she already stands out as the tallest girl in the hunger Games and the second tallest overall, for this chariot parade she's holding onto hardy fluffy claws as she represents the bold Kiara, heiress to the pridelands. Dressed in a tuft of red hair and smooth yellow fur is young Kaney Mayes, son of Mayor Mayes. He just can't wait to be king, and he's living it up for you guys so let's have a cheer!" The cheer comes and goes in a wave and District 11 gets many more funds channeled towards their direction.

"From the ashes rise two terrific tributes, Erudite Soot and Naette Quill from District 12! Both excited, they just can't comprehend the excitement that few in District 12 have ever witnessed in person. Erudite, with an excited gleam in his glasses, is sporting a pair of red overalls with yellow straps and ivory white buttons. Naette Quill in a similar outfit additionally sports a perfectly placed and tied up pink polka-dotted bow atop her head. Let's get a cheer for eru-dite-soot and Nae-tte-quill from the land of underdogs!" The crowd gives a cheer respectfully before looking behind the two District 12 tributes at this year's main twist.

"Who finer to represent the debut of District 13 into Hunger Games 150 than our suavely dressed Jakob Torser and scrappy little Neve Orion? Hold your applause, for Jakob Torser's got that smooth charm under his light green attitude, fitting for a prince from a land we barely knew about. And make no mistake, despite his excellent taste in bling, this scrapper from the underground has a scar on his arm just to prove how easily he can sway you. Neve, just as spunky, is wearing a more subdued green dress, one befitting of Princess Tiana, and has the looks to match! Complimenting her perfectly proportional frame is her hair in a light brown bun. Sure this may not be the norm in District 13, but both of our tributes are rocking this style!" Though both stoic, the crowd gives them moderate applause for tonight. From the applause meter hidden in several stands, they get the fifth highest of the night, after the careers and District 9.

All chariots slowly come to a crawl as the camera in the viewing box shuts down. I turn my attention to a monitor setup on my right to see great President Sleet with her speech. "Thank you, Citizens, gamemakers, and horses for tonight's marvellous parade." the cheers in the audience begin to swell loudly before she puts up a silencing hand. As she lowers it the camera begins to focus on several tributes.

Naomi is trying to get closer to Samuel as he looks dutifully. I figure that Samuel's attentiveness may have to deal with being a proud career from District 9 and wanting to represent the academy well.

The same can't be said for Regan of District 4 and Layla of District 1, who flash winks simultaneously to the camera once it focuses on them. Several members of the audience are instantly captivated by Layla's great pair of breasts and Regan's nice set of abs.

Most of the time is occupied by Jakob and Neve. They stare at the president intently, tightening their knuckles around the bar in front of their chariot. They may look emotionless but the white around their knuckles indicates differently.

Ember stands stoically, almost bored, while her partner, Kaney, has his eyes wide and paying attention. The two from District 8 continue to look up, almost tired, just like Valonia from District 10, Nidawi from District 5, and Fabian from District 3. Atticus from District 10 stands jsut as dutifully as Nikos from 1, District 2's Antoinette and Desmond, Jon from District 5, Aster and Juniper from District 7, and District 12's Naette.

From here we can see Janine and Erudite moving around restlessly. Their partners, Adam and Naette try to calm them down while looking up at the stage somewhat dutifully. Zippina seems to be restless too but I barely get a glimpse of her as the camera glosses over Kimberly of District 4, who traces her cheek and smiles when she learns she's on camera.

"Now tributes, the quell this year is to represent that breaking the rules have consequences," Sleet continues. The volume of her microphone seems to turn up as she says those words. The spotlights find a structure behind her. To most of the tribute's horror it's a giant firecracker, aimed directly at the tribute building. "This firecraker is the mode of execution for this woman, a traitor to the gamemaking cause. Let the name of Vinnicia Blushweather, who tipped her hand too deep into the fire to grasp at embers, finally burn as the unworthy gamemaker scum she really is. Now…"

Appearing behind her is the mono-pooh-ma mutt, who we saw several days ago just after the reaping recaps. "Now we have a very special punishment for the backstabbing gamemaker! And don't worry, a true punishment is never alone." Mono-Pooh-ma opens his arms behind him to flip down three more firecrackers and aims them at the tribute building. "LET'S GIVE IT EVERYTHING WE'VE GOT! IT'S PUNISHMENT TIME!"

From out of nowhere the bear pulls out a red squeaky hammer and hits a button. The lights on the firecrackers go orange, blue, orange, amber, orange, before stopping on fire red. A fire is set on each of the four condemned, almost blackening their faces just as the music comes to a crawl. As the fuse grows shorter the music swells and the four condemned with blackened faces are sent hurtling high above the parade route to the tribute building. It looks like they're going to hit it before all four rockets take a sharp turn upward, launching high into the atmosphere, and exploding in a demented rainbow of orange and amber.

It's by far the prettiest way to die that I've ever seen. Mono-Pooh-ma disappears to a massive round of applause just as President sleet closes off the ceremony. The horses and tribtues are herded back to the tribtue building. The camera turns on instantaneoulsy, revealing my massive beaming smile to the audience down below. Their cheers all melt into an intimidating roar as the tributes all depart from the circle. "So how about that Panem? Do we love that or do we love that? Are we going to have fun this year **OR ARE WE GOING TO HAVE FUN THIS YEAR**?!"

I know it's already going to be a hell of a year when I think this year started off with a bang.

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here (the fanfiction writer, not the rabbit)**

 **This was surprisingly fun. I'll be frank and tell you that I'm not the most adept at describing clothes but it was definitely an amazing experience to write all of this. I think it showed because this chapter by my count is the longest chapter yet. And yes, this quell is about obeying the rules. now if your tribute breaks the rules they will be subject to that kind of an execution and I already have a bunch thought up :)**

 **And I've come to a decision. There will be at least 1 other tribute who survives the Hunger Games. Who this is I am unsure yet. Their escape will be attributed to Vinnicia. but it's not like they'll know it, so stakes are high, but I want to have at least 1 tribute escape.** **Thank you guys for being with me thus far so I definitely want to let you know that (it is valentine's month, so let it be known that I love all of you guys for sticking with me)**

 **Question time (mostly for fun this time):**

 **What are your three favorite outfits? (6 points)**

 **Did the tributes react the way you thought they would (2 points)**

 **Who gets executed? (2 points)**

 **Who starts the execution? (2 points)**

 **What are the reactions of 2 audience members? (2 points)**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	23. Night after the Parade

**_The After Hours_**

 _Lenora Cotton, 16 years old, District 8 Female_

The chariot makes a final lap after the executions, most of us tributes in definite shock. I guess breaking the rules is not an option, whatever they may be. I take a look at Jensen to see that he's notably stone faced, already reeling with the first 4 deaths we've seen. The other chariots seem to be quiet without much of a rumble. Even the horses seem kind of forcibly excited.

The chariots all come to a sop as the horses grab a bite to eat. I don't see our mentors, Indigo and Velvet, anywhere in the facility. The elevator to take us to our room seems to mark the dividing line of the harried camera people who all want to get a glimpse of us. Jensen and I walk together in silence as we first embark on the elevator. "90% of the buildings devoted to a mixed retail and residency purpose have an elevator and recent attempts have been coming to bring that number up to at least 95%," Jensen says. I look at him with a smile as we push the button to open the doors.

Except for a metal door the entirety of the elevator is covered in glass to protect us from the winds outside. The floor is a smooth limestone and gravel mix. The instructions next to the buttons say to press the number that relates to our District. I press the button for District 8 when several others try to rush in. Jensen and I hold the doors open as they climb in.

Two girls and a boy seem to have joined us this time around. The girls are rather short, shorther than me and Jensen and seem to be from District 3 and 10. I smile kindly at them but the two short girls turn away. The boy, judging by his outfit and dark skin, seems to be one of the more well fed kids from District 11. I get a smile from him while he holds out his hand. "Kaney Mayes," he says. "I'm from District 11."

"Oh, lucky guess then," I say smiling. "I'm Lenora Cotton from District 8."

"Nice name," he says. I push the button for District 11 when the elevator drops off one of the tiny girls at the District 3 floor. "What do you do at home?"

"I work," I say. Looking slightly to my right I see Jensen looking at the two of us with a curled lip. "Oh, this is Jensen, my partner," I hastily say. He waves hello and shakes his hand as well. "I work in the factories, it's been hard for me and my mom and we can't really afford to go into the academy."

"Huh," Kaney muses. "Kids have to work? My dad's the mayor so I guess I don't quite understand."

"Wealth is only a dream for much of us street kids in District 8," Jensen adds. The floor reaches eight before we can continue our conversation. Our mentors look up from the table with a smile and beckon us to join us at the table. I give a quick goodbye to Kaney and the other girl in the elevator as the doors close. The recap of the chariot is playing on 2 of the five monitors in the kitchen.

"Oh dearie dearie me!" our escort titters. She begins picking at our chariot outfit and shooing off to our rooms. She places a hand on Jensen and rubs it away. "SHOWER BEFORE DINNER! THE TWO OF YOU!" Her silly capitol accent is but the latest in a series of bright spots.

I try to turn back to face Indigo and Velvet but they wave us off, slightly annoyed by her as the continue eating. Several servants point me in the direction of my room and take Jensen to his room. The door opens to a room about the size of the lobby back home with the bed being about the size of my own dining room table. A small wow escapes my lips as I see three more doors, obviously the closet and the bathroom, and slowly walk towards them.

A similar gasp escapes my mouth as the lights softly go on and reveal a room about the size of my living room and kitchen. In some of the poorer residencies of District 8 the restrooms are communal, and while we were lucky to have a toilet and sink, the showers were at another end of the hall. This time all those commodities seem to be in one room. I take off my clothes and slide them into what seems to be a laundry chute.

After pressing one button in the shower I seem to have hit the perfect temperature. Lucky thing too. I step out of the shower and slip into some perfectly fitted clothes for dinner tonight. "Have any good interactions today?" Velvet asks me.

"District 11 seemed nice," I say with my hand full of multi-colored bread. "The boy Kaney seemed really nice. He's 13 but he knows how to handle himself and I think he knows how to talk to people."

Indigo is about to say something before he turns to the hallway, glancing at Jensen as he seems to grab at his neck. "The shower get you too?" he asks, laughing loudly.

Jensen doesn't smile at that remark and sits down opposite me at the elliptical table. "What does 'blue' even do in the shower?"

His chin does look remarkably blue at this point. "Any nice interactions with the other tributes?" Velvet asks curiously. To my confusion I see him shaking his head no and taking a drink out of the pitcher. "Districts 7 and 9 are a bit hesitant but try to be nice with them tomorrow, or hang out with District 11 if you see somethign with them," she reccomends.

Dinner passes for another hour and at the end I'm stuffed. I pass through the living room, where our other victors, Denim and Wendell with eyes glued to the television at the reaping recaps. "I really hope that we can bring out a victor," Wendell says sadly, twitching as the screen switches from District 8 to 9.

I hope so too.

 _Kaney Mayes, 13 years old, District 11 Male_

"I think that the District 8 pair was a nice pair," I tell my mentors eagerly. We sit around an elliptical table with many platters of dinner food. "I didn't find out much from the District 10 or Three. Those girls are short. How tall are they?"

"I don't think it's polite to ask around for height," our escort says. She's one to talk. Hazelnut is the same height I am and the doctor said I would have reached at least six feet. "Unless they're a tall hunk from District 4...oh dear I have to place a phone call!"

She runs from the table and bumps into Ember as she walks through the parlor. "Oh Ember!" she shouts. "Please take off your clothes and shower before dinner. It's a new protocal that the escorts must have to do. I must palce a call!"

Ember looks at her as she runs away in her high heels. "I hope that they break under her feet," Ember says before turning into her room with an avox.

"Have you considered allying with Ember?" Zacharias asks me.

"I hope to, but I don't think that she wants to be with me. What use would I be of her? I'm 13 and she's 17."

"16 and 17 aren't too far off," Donnabella says. She rolls her wheelchair to me and begins to illustrate the difference with a handy bundle of sticks she keeps up her dress folds. "Ember is the tallest girl and among the strongest. If she wants to ally with you she could act as a shield for you if a knife gets flung over your head. It would hit her in the chest and you wouldn't have to worry about killing your partner."

Zacharias coughs wildly as Ulri tries to calm him down. "Don't worry about killing your partner. Only careers are savage enough to do that," Ulri tells me.

"Anything can happen in the arena," Donnabella says angrily. Ulri ducks a bread roll thrown at her before eating it. "Victors have killed their District partners. Yes, the careers have killed their partners, but my grandmother's first victor needed a whole lot of comfort when fleeing mutts."

"Mutts?"

"She thought her partner was one of them and threw an axe into his chest," she says sadly. "Unless you're my good late friend Katniss, killing your partner is a threat in the Hunger Gams, and you may have to do it. I'd rather you not, but stick with her if she'll let you."

I nod obediently, returning to my butter knife and applying some margarine onto the bread. The rest of dinner lasts for about half an hour, with Ember joining us about 15 minutes into it. "Ember?" I ask, my voice slightly quavering. "Would you kill me in the arena?"

Her cold glare seems to boil her food on the plate as she stabs at a piece of fruit. "I'm not sure if I can promise you that but I won't kill you," Ember says. "We aren't the careers."

Donnabella rolls her eyes and grabs a breadstick, whacking Ember on the head with it. She gives her the same lecture she gave me, only this time directing it to the other victors, Ulri, Zacharias, Bale, and Borreus. "Now I've seen each and every single one of you out the arena but you have to stop spreading this notion that only the careers kill District partners. Need i remind you of District 5? Or District 10? Or District 6?"

The table takes a sigh in unison as the avox flit to and fro, pickung up our used plates and washing them in an automated machine. Our escort returns with the biggest grin on her face while she babbles about a meeting with Bruce. "Dinner's over Herodita," Ulri says just as Hazelnut opens her mouth. "The chariots are on if you want to see them but other than that I reccomend you sleep."

"I'll check out what's on then," Ember says, sliding off of her chair. I make a gesture taht I'm goign to try to get some sleep and leave the others in the dining room. I can faintly hear Hazelnut gushing about some hunky victor over 6' as I turn in to sleep.

The bed is as big as mine back home, a small comfort for me, but this time it seems like it has heating, wave, and incline functions. I grab a book off of the nightstand, pleasantly surprised that it's the latest in the team of mutts. This time around they have temporarily separated. Naganadel is finding her way around with a platypus mutt, Rajar is fighting a wolf mutt, Clavoiye is trying to sneak around a base, Korat is herding people away from an attack, and Kronk is rallying people against a threat.

IT seems like they're all trying to fight against a common threat this time around. Their visit to this long lost country has them find a civilization of old animals and they seem to be fighting against the Panemial ideals. I wanted to meet up with my friends after the reaping to make play as the mutts. I wonder how they are now.

Mom and dad should keep them safe, right? I curl up with a fluffy wool blanket and hide under the cover. The night still seems weird without knowing that my parents are going to be just in the next room. I dry my eyes just as I close them. It's not my bed at home but I will make it as close as possible.

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **Sorry for the long update time and the short chapter. I really had a hard time deciding what to do with both of these characters, as they are really great. The layout for the next couple of chapters seems to be at least 1 chapter for each day of training, 1 chapter for the private session, 1 chapter for the reactions, 1 chapter for interview prep, one chapter for interviews, ine chapter interviews, and one chapter dealing with the aftermath. The biggest problem right now is dealing as to who gets which perspective. All 26 characters will have a role in the night before chapter, which equals the aftermath.**

 **With training striking up let me know if you all have any ideas for alliances and possible interactions and I'll see if I can let them in**

 **Sponsor questions:**

 **1) What color is Jensen's chin assumed to be after his shower incident? (2 points)**

 **2) What are the mutts doing when Kaney reads of their misadventures? (1 point per mutt)**

 **For fun:**

 **What makes you guys tick? What wouldn't you want to see for this fanfiction? Favorite disney deaths?**

 **If you guys ever want to learn more about the world that this Panem is built around then feel free to check out my main world building fiction, A Century and A Half of Hunger Games. I work hard on that and I'd like to see what you all think**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	24. Training Day 1

_**Training Day 1;**_

 _Zippina Cayen, District 3 Female, 16 years old_

 _7:45-10:00_

"Look at the two of you!" Illaina titters, taking a photo of the two of us after posing me and Fabian next to a blooming flower pot. In years past she's taken photos of District 3, always overjoyed to see such sparkplugs of energy just about to start a light. "It's so great to see you two get dressed on your own, especially when last year my tributes didn't know how to tell back from front!"

She skips over to the two of us with fabric and pins it to the back. Fabian jumps in surprise as he tries to look at the fabric on his back. "That's just your District number," Batteron says tiredly. "Finish your drinks and head down to the training center."

Fab and I take a seat next to each other on the table and both make a grab for the same milk-white drink. "WAit, what is this?" I ask when I see something swirling inside.

"Cheese flavored milk from Distrit 10," Tranfera says. "I looked at the box, don't look at me like that."

"Here, you can have it. Cheese doesn't sit too well with me in the morning," Fabian says. I take a reluctant swig and down the half-cup in ten seconds. Fabian finishes a slice of toast and wipes at his mouth. He gets up from the chair uneasily and pulls my chair out. I thank him silently as we make a walk to the elevator. It's still Illaina's job to push the buttons for us so she has to direct the elevator to go downstairs.

She pushes the two of us in and waves us off. I turn to Fabian as he wrings his hands and pops his knuckles, seeing him fret as I wait close to the doors. The trip isn't a long one but it's still filled with tension. The doors open to see about several district pairs already there. Great, we're in the last half of people.

The core careers are already talking with each other. They all dwarf me easily, even the girls, and try to size up me and Fabian as we step out of the elevator. Fabian rolls his eyes and ducks to the side, trying to find someone nice to talk to. There was that nice boy from the elevator last night but I don't see him.

With a shake of my head I walk up to a pair of tributes talking to each other. They're both rather short, still taller than me though, and seem to already have been in a conversation for a while. "Uhh, hi," the short girl says. Well, as short as me. She pushes her hari back behind her awkwardly and looks to her compatriot, a brunette boy who looks like his head was shaved. "You're from District 3, right?"

I nod my head as the girl smiles a bit more reassuringly. "We're not trying to open an alliance yet," the boy says sadly. "The name is Jon though. You uhh, you can hang out with me and Nidawi if you want."

"Oh," I say. Allies would definitely help. The two of them seem nice so maybe I'll have to keep my options open. I'm sure Fabian is a lock.

The elevator comes down several more times and the second to last people to come down are the District 13 pair. Almost immediately all conversation halts and we see the District 13 tributes come out of the elevator. The District 11 pair are actually able to slip behind the two of them, not an easy thing to do considering the height of the girl from District 11.

It takes a moment of silence before one of the 13 pair breaks it. "Something on my face?" the tall boy, whose either Jakob or James, says. He rolls his eyes and grabs at his arms before going to the side, trailed quickly by his District partner. They look like they could ally.

"At ease you guys," the girl says as the various conversations increase in volume.

It takes one more minute before the head trainer comes in. "Hello tributes. This is your playground for the next three days. Here you will refine your skills to take to the arena. You are required to measure your jump, weight, height, and run the obstacle course at least once in the three days."

She goes on, talking about how every arena is different. She explains that the quarter quell arenas are never what they appear to be at first glance and it isn't likely to die of starvation or thirst this game around, but it is still nice to brush up on the skills. She lets us go and we seem to divide into several cliques immediately.

"So, what are the two of you going to do first?" I ask Nidawi and Jon.

Jon shrugs before turning to Nidawi, who seems to look around in confusion before pointing to a rock climbing wall. "I'm not good at climbing, it could help," she adds. "What are you good at?"

I glance over at the trap making part of the gymnasium with a bit of a reticent glare. "I can test out the rope traps but I'm good at making electricity," I explain, trying not to reveal too much.

Jon looks at me oddly before he quickens his pace, prompting me and Nidawi to catch up to him at a quicker rate. "Let's check that out later, and you say you're good at electricity? Like the other District 3 victors?"

"I wouldn't say like that," I reply to Jon.

"Let's give it a shot after this. Something on one of those monitors caught my eye so I ran to it," he explains. "So, Nidawi, like old times?"

Nidawi seems to smile brightly and skips up to the rock climbing wall. "I'm not going to get a head start, don't worry. I'm not you or Artair."

"Oh come on, you know I won that one on my own terms."

I take my place next to the two of them as a timer all the way up resets to zero. Jon and Nidawi climb up faster but when I arrive at the halfway point we seem to be only ten seconds apart. They stop there so I do too. I think about the discussion that I was supposed to talk with Forden after I came out of the Hunger Games. It may just be me but I see the same thing with the District 5 pair now.

I shake that thought out of my head and continue climbing. After reaching a point where I can't reach the next grip I go another way. Even after I make it to the ¾ mark my arms are shaking and I can barely make the next 25% of the way up. I collapse at the top of the rock-wall and look down. There's a set of stairs in the back that I excitedly go for. What goes up must come down I suppose.

 _Adam Cufole, 17 years old, District 6 Male_

 _10:00-12:00_

 **INCORRECT!** The monitor in front of me blares. With a shout of frustration I turn over the tray of plants I've been working with and storm away in a huff. No one is drawn to my freak outburst and I move over to the obstacle course. My weight, 139 pounds, and height, 5'11" are marked by the trainer presiding over this course. I want to get through this at least twice.

The obstacle course seems to shift in a tightly constrained perimeter to accommodate for everyone's different physical aptitude. My first obstacle is a series of escalating steps, progressively further apart from one another that I have to jump to. It's easy for me. The next obstacle has me using vertical grips to make it over some mats. It's harder than I've expected but I muscle through it. I stretch out as I scope out the next obstacle, a simple rope swing from a higher platform to a lower platform. I get through it easily.

The next obstacle is a series of wires that I have to crawl under and over, forming a net that spans about five feet across. I jump over, under, trying not to touch the ropes. When I swing my right foot over a three foot high rope I lose my balance and fall down, catching one of the ropes to get balance. It stings when I see the goal so close. Just behind me I hear a snicker from a decently tall boy. "Something funny?" I say with a snort.

The boy pushes back his beach blond hair and confidently strides up to me, wearing a cocky grin that was common on many of the past victors during their initial interviews. "I'd think a guy as lanky as you would have a better sense of balance," he jokes. "Just keep your center of mass low to the ground."

"And I should accept your help because?"

"You don't have to unless you want to dirty your pants," he moves past me and talks with the trainer. The obstacle course swaps some of its presented obstacles, changing the pedestals to a high wire and adding a cargo net that transitions into some monkey bars. He falls on his back when transitioning from the cargo net to the monkey bars. He dusts off his back and as the trainer straighten out his District 13 fabric.

"Any excuses?" I ask him mockingly.

"I'll tell you that the monkey bar tilted. It caught me off guard and the sweat caught up to my palms. Didn't catch your name though. District 6?"

"You got it," I say, cracking my knuckles. "Adam Cufole, and you're Jakob?"

"Bingo," he says. "Neve and I have a bit of an alliance going on. Wanna see if you can join us?"

"We'll see. I like you, don't get me wrong. But what's in it for the both of us if I accept?"

He folds his arms and seems to flex. "We're both fairly tall, and from what my escorts and our mentors told me, District 6 is a rough place. Do you have to read people?" At my raised eyebrow he shrugs his shoulders and asks me again. "You know, like seeing what they'll have to do?"

"Yeah, not that much but if you consider looking at people in line to see if they'll fuck something up then that's reading," I say, mirroring his gesture. My eyes dart to his scarred arms before locking a steely gaze with him. "If Neve-your partner, is okay with it, then I'll join. Do you know a bit about herbs?"

He unfolds his hands in a lackadaisical gesture and tilts his head. "Depends on what you define as a bit. If it ain't enough we'll find someone?"

I nod in agreement just as he holds out his hand. I shake it confidently then put my hands in my pocket. "You're welcome to join me at the supply station. Depending on the arena we might need it." He decides to follow along and try to get as much information like the rest of us.

After a while at the supply station I realize just how unorthodoz the stations are this year. Some are related to memory, some are related to character identification, even on establishing some old languagues. Jakob's partner catches up to the two of us with something of a big grin on her face. She snaps her hand to an odd gesture before glumly putting it down. "Who's this?" she asks.

"Adam," I say, interrupting Jakob. "District 6."

"Then my name is Neve Seren Orion."

"I can call you neve right? That sounds like a mouthful."

"Definitely," she says. "I saw a bunch of others and I got word that the careers? I think that's what they're called, are stalking Jakob and I. It is imperative that the two of us remain a low profile."

"So in words worth a penny, you can't be seen with me?"

"Unfortunately it seems it must be so. Joshua and Yana, having been careers themselves, are warning us away from them."

Jakob curls his lips and nods. "It was nice hanging out with you Adam, you're welcome to join us for lunch but no word of our alliance yet," he tells me. It's a baffling decision but I guess I have to agree if I want this alliance. He gets up with Neve as they seem to be locked in discussion. I catch wind of a dark skinned girl and an imaginative one.

It looks like the game today is politics. I've never been a fan, always trying to stay neutral, like my family. Damn I wonder how they're doing…

I push thoughts of politics and alliances and my family out of my head as I examine the contents of a bag that would be in the arena. Three pockets apart from one main one, which would contain a combination of 4 of the following: 2 liter water bottle; three days' worth of dried fruit; four days' worth of beef jerky; three hunting knives; poncho; stack of 10 tickets consisting of five E tickets, 2 D tickets, 1 C ticket, 1 B ticket, and 1 A ticket; a pair of socks; flint; or two slices of a random piece of bread.

It's going to be a weird year.

 _Emmeline Utral, 71 years old, District 5 Mentor & Victor of Hunger Games 94_

 _Lunchtime for tributes and Mentors_

The door to the victor's lounge opens when the clock above me ticks to 12:00. I've been brushing over the notes that Jolt and Piper have sent me. Our District seems to be stuck on a sinusoidal function of luck. High points only to be coutneracted by low ones…

The documentary on District 5 victors seems to reiterate this. Even Hellion Darsi, the most blessed of the victors, suffered anger issues. Mere minutes along in the documentary is the controversy that plagued my hunger games. It got to the point where the gamemakers were assaulted on the street for letting me in the Hunger Games.

The hate would have been irrational had I not gone in 9 months pregnant. I still have Finnick Odair to thank for his sacrifice. I pull the photo of my only daughter, her only arm around me, and hold it tight. She always gives warmer hugs than people with 2 arms. Maybe except for Furter. Who still holds me at night when I run into Allique's room in a craze.

I was the third and last in a line of pregnant tributes. A 2 week pregnant District 2 girl volunteered two years before me, a girl one month along from District 10 came next, then there was me at 9 months.

I stop my moping and pull up a chair for Jolt and Piper. It's the same deal, me offering to replace either of them before they both politely yet bluntly decline. The career mentors wheel tables into a circle as they talk strategy. The victor's lounge is crowded this year. An Avox comes over and gives all of us a cup of water.

"Are Jon and Nidawi really trying to go at it together?" I ask them in a hushed whisper.

Jolt leans in, coughing like he normally does, and leans in. "We think we may have an alliance with District 3's girl," he says hesitantly. Batteron and Tranfera move closer to our table and seemingly nod their heads. They both try to get Fabian involved. It's a small alliance but I think it'll help. Batteron turns on his tablet and flips it to the live feed of the tribtues in the lunch room. I can catch wind of their conversation through the mics in their training uniform.

I'm about to suggest that we flip to the other conversations between the Careers and District 13 but even among victors we have our bounds. "Put the conversations on the screen, I think that all of us could use that," I tell Batteron. After some typing on his tablet he puts it on screen and the other victors turn to watch our conversations unfolding.

Even now we don't know who is allying with who. It's the quarter quell so uncertainties are certain.

But I will say that Donnabella beginning to tap her feet as we hear music from the tribute cafeteria was unexpected. Then one of the careers rhythmically taps his fingers.

The next couple minutes are chaotic as we seem to sing lyrics, dance to tunes, and harmonize uneasily. The minutes pass and we all sit down, unsure of what just happened. Then the headgamemaker comes on screen. "Hello Victors," he says with an ice cold vice. "My anger is not directed to you, but to the actions of an amateur gamemaker. What you experienced is a drug that is in the water. It was but a test, a successful one, and the chemicals will be in the arena. This was to be administered in the arena, a plan for the future."

He goes off screen presumably to punish whoever it was that set this up. If the fear in the room was but a single spark, it's now become a livewire.

 _Jensen Allard, 12 years old, District 8 Male_

 _1:00-3:00_

With our stomachs filled the 26 of us file back into the gymnasium. I've heard the careers talking loudly about how District 8 was disappointing this year and that District 11 would probably be a better fit, but only the girl. It's demeaning but I guess I'm used to it. I move over to the slingshot station to make sense of at least one weapon. As I sit dutifully through the lesson a girl walks up and takes the slingshot I'm currently using to learn the components. "Excuse me?" I ask, startling her. "Maybe you should listen in case this isn't something you don't know."

"Oh no thanks," she says, giggling. "I know a little bit. I can teach you."

"I'd rather learn it from the teacher. And maybe you should hold off on it until we both get a chance, huh?"

The girl reluctantly nods her head and pushes back her brown hair as she listens to the trainer. He highlights the types of pellets that we can use, ranging from half an inch to four inches, saying that our grip on the shaft depends on the kind of pocket we need. "Now that you've had this instruction here are ten bullets to try your luck at the targets," he says, gesturing to the wide range behind him.

I look at the girl as she scratches her wrist. "I'll wait," she says, smiling.

Annoyed, I take my spot on the X projected onto the floor and face a dog shaped target. With a shaky breath I put the ammunition in the slingshot's pocket and pull back. The first five shots miss. I hit the dog shaped target with my sixth and eighth shots on the hind legs. I manage to make my penultimate shot to fire at the dog's head. With a smile I put down the weapon and give way to the girl.

As she gets into position she puts two projectiles at a time in her pocket "Hey, do you think that's safe?" I ask reticently. "The trainer said-"

"I know what I'm doing," she says with another giggle. She pulls back and aims at a smaller cat shaped target and hits it. To my shock she continues to hit it, nailing two shots in the head and the rest all around its body. She takes a bow and moves to join one of the older boys. Both of them have the District 9 fabric on their back.

"Dangit," I moan. District 9 is a traditional ally to District 8 and I might have lost one. I jog up to the two of them with a hard applied smile on my face. "Uhh, that was pretty good shooting over there."

"You shot?" the boy asks the girl. She nods and runs off to try out the knot tying station. "You're District 8, right?"

I nod my head, a bit intimidated by the fact that he's several inches taller than I, but keep talking. "I wanted to ask your partner if-"

"We'll let you in our alliance, but District 7 takes priority over you," he says bluntly. "But see what your partner wants and you can join us tomorrow. We're still hesitant on the careers but we think we can get on their good side."

"That sounds marvelous," I say, trying to smile brightly. "I want to try out a lot but I think that we can be an alliance. My partner is talking with District 11 so do you want to see if we can let her?"

He shakes his head. "Sounds like she has a plan. She's welcome to join but if she has an alliance it's probably not best to mess with that," the boy says. "Oh, my manners. I'm Samuel Palmer and the girl you tried to talk to was Naomi Palmer."

"I'm Jensen Allard. ARe you two siblings?"

His face seems to harden as he stiffly nods. I don't push the subject but he seems to brighten up immediately. "Come on, District 8 has to know something. You guys are careers for a reason."

Instead of walking to the rope section he calls over Naomi and walks with me to the camouflage station, which this year seems to be with a lot of random costumes and designs. The trainer's face lights up when he sees us walking over and begins his spiel. Naomi and Samuel begin looking at several hats he has displayed on a table but I pay attention like always. He explains taht each set of clothes is particular for each region of the arena and would help with some tasks because we'd look familiar to the mutts.

It's a lot of information and I would take so much more of it in if I had my pen and paper. He lets us try on some of the costumes after his spiel and I find that a bunch of them offer different instances of mobility. It looks to be a diverse arena and I'm not sure if I can prepare adequately.

 _Layla Ranevall, 18 years old, District 1 Female_

 _3:00-5:00_

"Regan, baby," I say, adopting my flirtatious tone. "Wanna talk for a bit?"

"With a lovely little dame like you? Who wouldn't?" he replies in a tone just as charming. He gives a quick wave to our alliance mates as they continue working on the weight lifting station. The two of us move to an elementary station- the sword station, and both pick up blunt weapons. We challenge the trainers and they drive us back to back. "You didn't call me over to discuss swordplay, right?"

"You know what I called you for," I say. With a strain I push back against the guy whose fighting with me and send him to the floor. Regan lands a blow on his opponent's neck and she screams while going down. "Two angles, two sides of the same coin if you ask me."

"Well it's a bit late to change our angles," he says in a hasty whisper. He and I swap the weapons we've been using. "Look, you and I definitely have someone to get back to. Tell me, who's the girl?"

"How'd you know it was a girl?" I ask. "Regardless, your boy at home is probably wanting a bit more."

"We aren't dating yet, but something tells me you and your 'girl friend' aren't dating either. How long have the two of you been friends?"

I manage a flip just as he makes a sweep to my feet. I land a three limbed landing and look at him with a manic grin as he breathes heavily. "Since I was 8, lost my parents the same day I enrolled and she was there, she's a great chick if you ask me," I say, dusting myself off. "What's your backstory?"

"Lost my parents the years of Gerald and Kyrenia, both of them were tributes," he says sadly. "I'm fighting for them you know? And besides, Kyle's letting me let loose just get back home."

"And is letting loose being with any girl or guy you want?"

He raises a flirtatious eyebrow and swings his arm around my waist. "Sound logic, seems like your friend would agree, wouldn't she?"

I make a mocking hand gesture with my hand and yank his arm off of my waist. "Let's just agree that both of us may be able to seduce but the true seducier is the one to come out. Let's keep this competition afoot." I drop my hand to his well formed posterior and keep up the angle.

The two of us return to the careers as they finish their session on weight lifting. "Pretty sweaty Layla," Antoinette snidely says.

"Pretty and sweaty sweetie," I bite back. "How was the weight lifting?"

"Like a weight off of our shoulders," Kimberly says. "Sorry, I've been doing that a lot."

"Doing what?" Desmond asks.

"Puns," she says simply, with an air of disinterest. "Right now I'm trying to punish myself for doing that every so often."

An awkward glance at Desmond and Nikos later, I speak up and ask "Pun-ish?"

She slams her hand against a weight and sighs. "Come on, come on," Desmond scolds. "Let's see what we have to do. Wow Regan, you do look sweaty. Would you guys all like to dive into the pool? We have but 30 minutes and I don't suppose that we could have some time to cool down."

"Sounds lovely Desmond," Antoinette says. "But We do have other days for that, and I think some of that gymnastics would provide the same effect. I think it's best that we go off on our own thing, right?"

The rest of us seem to agree and politely agree to meet each other tomorrow. I drag Nikos with me to a corner of the gym, taking a happy glance at Regan's shirtless frame. "So, still trying to ditch us?"

His eyes dart to the floor as he seems to curl his lips in thought. "No," he says after much deliberation. "I'll stick with you guys for a while."

I smile wildly and pull him close. "I don't want to lose a fucking hunk like you yet, you've just got to keep a lovely girl like me sane, okay?" I push my breasts up to his chest, hopefully keeping him close to me. "Pretty big of you to do this for me."

He pushes himself away from me and coughs with a large smile on his face. But he still carries hiself uneasily. "It's about time to go upstairs, so you don't mind if I head up right?"

I look around him to see a bunch of the smaller tributes flocking to the elevators. "Be sure to intimidate them," I say. I kiss him on the lips and take a lot of fun seeing him flustered. I give him a dainty little wave as he walks up.

 _You know, even though you're putting yourself out there, I can tell that it's becuase you're determined._

 _Whatever it takes, we'll be here with you_

"Thanks mom, thanks dad," I tell them. They shut up afterwards but I can still feel their fingers on me like that night all those years ago. Again they direct me to the club and boy do I need to bash some heads in.

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **So this was a pretty big challenge. I'll tell you that group work is something taht I need to work on, so feel free to call me out on your tributes if I messed up. I will make up for it come later. Anyways i hope you guys enjoyed the fair bit of world building here.**

 **Sponsor Questions:**

 **1) What does Zippina say she is good at? (2 points)**

 **2) Describe any 2 obstacles on the obstacle course station (3 points each)**

 **3) Emmeline suffered the curse of district 5. How? (5 points)**

 **4) Where does Jensen hit the target? (4 points)**

 **5) Where does Layla take Regan in order to talk? (2 points)**

 **EX: Name 3 training stations mentioned or depicted (1 point per question)**

 **For Fun: Favorite Mentor so far?**

 **Anyways I hope you guys are still reading and that you all like what I have in store. It seems like a lot of alliances are brewing up, but as I do mention, the Quarter Quell may be varied and they don't know what's in store**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	25. Training, Day 2

_**Training Day 2;**_

 _Desmond Pick, 18 years old, District 2 Male_

 _7:30-10:00 AM_

"Lupus Marterus," I say on my first drop to the ground. "Romulus Cobalt, Cleopatra Anatullah, Razer Castle, Lumin Valor, Onix Mintus, Minercal Carbon, Zephyr Cavalieus, Brutus Anobarius, Lyme Phoridan, Enobaria Urquadia, Mallius Frollel, Nox Merdon, Striker Mirtsy, Merit Vindal, Canus Orion, Corbin Selrif, Marcellus Wilvern, Tausret Quorits, Sheer Roughcliff, Nervo Revenant, Corazon Guile, Terrex Phratium, Kyrenia Lourfous, Shale Hargreaves, Bandit Rovers." 26 victors from District 2, 26 push-ups done at their name.

It's a common, if elementary, practice in District 2 to count your reps to the names of our 26 victors. I get up and stretch, fixing my training uniform and taking a swig of the water cup at my nightstand. Twenty-six squats, sit ups, chin ups, push ups, and a 2.6 minute plank in between each of them. I hope that Antoinette is doing the same.

Taking a deep breath I open the door to the hallway and greet the superior victors as they all seem to wake up. Nervo and Corazon walk out of their shared room each with a book in their hands and arms round the other's waist. "Good morning Desmond," nervo says, always the more vocal between him and Corazon.

"Good Morning Mr. Revenant, good morning Mrs. Guile," I politely reply. The two of them walk over to the table ahead of me, where I see Antoinette talking intensely with Kyrenia for today's agenda. I grab an orange from the fruit basket in the middle of the table and munch on while waiting by the elevator. Antoinette joins me promptly as the elevator comes down.

The three floors down to the training center is a quick ride, enough for me to discuss briefly with Antoinette. "I really would like to try to get District 7 on our side. And maybe District 9," she says, swallowing the last of her orange juice.

"The boys may as well be assets. The 7 girl maybe. The girl from 9 and the tributes from 8 not so much," I note. "It's a shame too. District 8 has always been such a great partner."

As the door opens for the two of us I prompt her to go ahead. She declines and pushes me out first. I look back at her stunned before she puts a hand on my shoulder. "This is a quell but are we doing the non-aggression thing with District 8?"

"Hard to say," I reply. I guide her to a farther corner, facing away from the District 3 pair as they talk intently. "District 8 has always been the craftiest of the careers. I would not put it past them to swindle their way into the alliance. The non-aggression pact only works before the final eight. I suppose this year that it would be the final 9 but I am willing to make a guess in that our compatriots in Districts 4 and 1 are not willing to hold non-aggression pacts with 7 and 9."

She curls her lips and sighs, nodding reluctantly. "I guess if they die in the bloodbath, no charge for us, right?"

I nod in agreement as the we turn to the elevator. At our arrival Districts 10, 3, and 12 were already here. The door opens for District 4, who joins us at the corner, then 6, 9, 1, 11, 8, 15, 13, and 7. The two from District 7, being the last ones to arrive, are also the ones we have our eyes on. Head trainer Prometheus Aruthor Femallia gives us the same speech as yesterday, noting that a vast majority of us still have not managed to attempt the obstacle course but all of us have provided satisfactory jumps. She lets us go soon afterward.

"Let's stretch first, then we can hit the water. Layla, weren't you just raring to make a splash yesterday?" Kim says.

"Definitely," she says."So long as it's okay for us to train in the water, just train like that."

Regan and Nikos both roll their eyes at Layla's hesitation but go along with the stretches. It's not doing much for me and just when the others finish their first 3 poses i'm already scouting out any potential alliances. I have received word of the volunteer from District 9 setting up his own alliance between the 7-9 tributes. I look out for him and spot his sister, and wherever his sister is he typically is. She's running along the track while her brother and an ally, the District 8 boy, are climbing up a tree.

"Desmond?" Layla asks. I turn sharply to her to see that the rest are all finished. "We are going to expand our alliance today, right?"

"That is my agenda for today and that should be our's," I say. "Anything else that you want to talk about?"

"Let's see if District 7 would be willing to join," she says. "There's something about the girl that makes me want to look out for her. The boy too you know." She opens her mouth to say a little bit more but turns her head to Nikos. She bounces on the balls of her feet a little, muttering something before shaking her head. Regan and Kimberly share a similar uneasy look that they cast towards the District 7 tributes. Antoinette and I can tell that the thoughts of the non-aggression pact is up among all of us.

Kimberly coughs loudly and smiles brightly. "So what's next? Weight lifting? Free weights? Swimming?"

"I'd be down with that," Antoinette says. The others nod in agreement and saunter off to the changing rooms. I take a cursory glance at the other tributes hunched over their stations before joining them with a confident stride. There are two changing rooms relatively close to the pool, so I know that they'll be headed inside. I can see the District 9 tributes running of to probably run on the track for a while, the girl basically towing her older brother.

Her name is Naomi and his name is Samuel. That much I know. The volunteer seems to be very, very shy when I lock gazes with him. He's a good looking boy under his curly hair. It would be most probable for District 1 to meet up with them. I share about a second too long with the boy and he turns away, trying not to show the fact that he was easily intimidated.

They run past the girl from District 11, the second tallest tribute this year. She's a definite threat if only for her stature. Right now she seems to be talking with a petite girl from either District 3 or 10 and with the boy probably from District 3 or 10. I have to be wary of that. "Desmond!" I can hear someone shout after me.

I turn to see Kimberly fidgeting with her swimsuit as Layla steps out, fidgeting uneasily no doubt due to the temperature. Kimberly sighs wistfully and jogs up to the pool, diving a fair distance down of the 5 meter deep end. To my shock, Layla walks back in the room and finds a better concealing swimsuit, finding that she's able to work it better. After them are Nikos, Regan, and Antoinette. I'll join them sooner or later.

* * *

 _Juniper Aspens, District 7 Female, 17 years old_

 _Training 10:00-12:00_

Aster's been a real good friend. He tolerates my stories and doesn't think that I'm weird at all. Guys like him in my neighborhood are like my dad, friendly and always willing to listen and not judgy at all. Somehow I don't think we'd be friends outside the hunger games but he's still cool, like a stoic artist who hangs in the trees like in one of the banned books that my parents hoard.

"So," he says after finishing a knot. I pull the cord and drop 5 knives angled downward on a spare dummy. "Do you want to try something else together or split up?"

"Split up? So we can cover more ground?"

"Yeah, like that. If we're going to ally then we need many skills and 3 days won't be enough to tackle a majority of them here," he explains.

"This isn't because I'm...I'm me, right?"

"No!" he shouts.

"Good! I like having you as a friend. I'm don't want to lose sight of you like that one ancient hero who accidentally killed his family. I guess it's like a spy meeting, right? Where we split up and search for clues with an intelligent dog?"

He blinks rapidly and nods in curt understanding. "Let's meet up during lunch to talk about stuff, alright?"

"Yeah." He strides off and I wait at the trap station for a minute more. The awkward thing is I wanted to go over to the archery station, where he is right now. That pesky strand of white hair falls down in front of my eyes again and I push it back. I look around the room from the vantage of the trap station. The room is big, I think that it's somewhere over eighty thousand square feet. Many of the booths are on wheels or on easily retractable stations. A glance east behind the pool shows that there's a fairly large gymnastics station further north. I decide to make my way there, trying not to look conspicuous as I walk through, kind of like a vet carrying a baby goat when the goat is bleating too loudly.

There's only one other boy on the station, trying to jump over a pedestal and onto a ring dangling from the ceiling. There's some laughter coming from the pool, like sirens of old, but they might be directed at the lanky boy as he seems to lose a contact and crawls on the floor to recover it. Or maybe it's like he lost a gem that would control all the animals in the grass. Maybe.

The sign at the front tells me to take off my shoes, leaving it in the care of the trainer at a little table. She shows me several videos that go by quickly of various victors and tributes, male and female, with nimble movements as they almost fly through the air. I step onto the floor of the acrobatics station to find that it's soft, almost bouncy, like a balloon. With an idea in the back of my mind, I take a running start and leap forward to a decently taut section of the floor, leaping high in the air before coming down with something of a splat.

The laughter comes again. I turn around to see a girl at the pool resting with her arms at the edge. I try to push her out of my mind and jump up to a pair of bars that look uneven. They told me the name of that but I can't remember what it is. I swing back and forth, finding it smoother than the trees in District 7, and use it to swing up to a high box. The laughter has turned to clapping and I see that the girl at the edge of the pool is joined by another, this one a bit of a messier blond compared to her platinum blond hair. The messy blond calls me over before her friend dives back in the water. I have to wonder if she's a mermaid.

The girl with the messy blond hair is about to speak when I feel a strong grip at my shoulder. "Yeah?" I ask inquisitively, turning to see a very very very attractive guy. "Uh…"

"Cat got your tongue?" he asks seductively. I'm speechless before I hear another voice speak up.

"Come on Regan, you might be scaring the poor dame," the girl in the pool says. She pushes herself out of the water, shaking her blond hair dry and fixing her...her well fit bathing suit that takes care to emphasize her boobs. I look at her, then at the guy with the six pack almost made of stone before shaking my head and trying to talk.

"Regan?" I ask.

"That's me," he says, flexing as he holds his hands behind his head. "You must be Juniper. District 7, right?"

The girl behind me steps up next to him and arches her back so that the water falls off her body and highlights her...curves...nicely. I look back at Regan and nod. "Juniper… that's me...and Regan is him."

"Well it's nice to meet you," the girl next to him says. "I'm Kimberly, District 4. I caught a glimpse of your moves, you have to show me how it's done. Say, aren't you with your partner...Archer was it?"

I look around the training academy, finding him obscured by a bow as he tries to fire it. "His name is ASter, not quite Archer. And-You wanted to talk to me."

"Of course," Regan says. He takes me by the waist off to the side. He crosses his arms, pushing out his pecs and adopting a strong stance with his impressive legs. "Listen, I don't know if our mentors mentioned this, but Districts 4 and 7-"

"Non agression. Is that still standing? Like a bond between two kingdoms over a long lost era of time destroyed to the ruins of nature?"

He blinks, a common reaction before nodding. "This non-aggression is good until the final eight, but we can extend that to the final 6, if you're willing to ally with us."

"Me?"

"And your friend. Where is he?"

"Oh I'll find him later. But I think we'd be glad to join, so don't worry. Uhh. I have to prove myself? Like a fashion show or something?"

"Just keep practicing gymnastics and we'll talk to you once we get out." As he's about to dive in the water I can see him flash a small flirtatious smile under a wink before he dives under like a muscle-bound shark with enough energy for days.

I turn around to the gymnastics station and try again, leaping higher and higher in the air before I reach a height comfortable enough to do a backflip. I slow my jumps down before climbing up to a pair of rings dangling from the ceiling. It's almost like a swingset and I go like a pendulum back and forth for a while, almost like a monkey with its tail, and leap off with a flip. I can hear an impressed pair of hands clapping.

Aster's there and he's about to come up to me before he's stopped by Regan, still a bit wet and with his shirt in his arms. Kimberly right beside him as the two District 2 tribtues walk up to me. "So, impressive," the girl says. "Show us what else you can do. LEt your partner get in on the fun."

I look to Aster as he seems to be confused. He nods his head as if to reassure me before talking with Regan some more. "I uhh...I just learned this but...I hope I'm as good as a snake or spider monkey." I jump from the harder floor to the uneven bars, swinging to and fro before ending it off with a flip. Somehow I stick the landing. "I know axes like the back of my own hand, but so does Aster, and I know how to track like a bloodhound."

"Sit with us during lunch and we'll consider it," the District 2 boy says. "But it does look hopeful."

The six of them leave the vicinity and I seem to have my mood significantly lightened. Then again I'm going to be surrounded by people who like killing. Then again it might help me get used to it. Then again I might have to kill someone else. Then again I might have to. Then again I might die.

"Aster," I say, running up to my partner. "Are we still allying together?"

"I'd like to, but let's just get training. We have a lot to think about."

I nod obediently as we decide to test out a little exhibit on flails. There's something going on with him. Can't tell what, but there's something up.

* * *

 _Divine Avel, District 1 Mentor & Victor of Hunger Games 147, 21 years old_

 _12:00-1:00_

The lighthearted mood of the victor's lounge is almost always replaced with a somber tone when alliances are actually discussed. Already three waters have been spilt. Looking at the state of mentors, I see the passion that really runs through our veins as we fight, each and every single one of us fighting to let our tribute see the light of day.

Every tribute right now seems like they're in an alliance no matter how nonsensical, and it seems like there are several major alliances springing up. They all want the same people and they all want different people.

A rundown:

The careers have been solidified as Nikos, Layla, Desmond, Antoinette, Kimberly, and Regan. They are trying to gain the partnership of District 7's Aster and juniper.

The semi careers have been solidified as Samuel, Naomi, and Jensen. Jensen is still trying to convince Lenora to join while Samuel is making a good case for Aster joining them.

Two outlying alliances have sprung up, both of which are causing worry.

Ember from District 11 is leading an alliance of Atticus, Valonia, and Fabian. Fabian is trying to get Janine of District 6 and Zippina from his district on their side.

The District 13 tributes are Neve and Jakob and no matter how hard they're trying to keep it silent, have solidified a partnership with Adam of District 6. Adam is campaigning for Janine of District 6 and they seem to try to get on the good sides of District 7 and 9.

There are a few separate alliances that seem to provide no problems and they really shouldn't be of worry. Nidawi and Jon, the tragic romance of this year, have been collaborating with Zippina of District 3. And I'm aware that they're just friends. And I'm aware that that justification has been seen too many times in the pre games.

District 12 may seem to be the only oddball this year but they seem to be getting along with District 11 and Zippina. Then Kaney and Lenora seem to be off on their own thing...until I heard Zacharias and Indigo getting into a passionate argument because their district's tributes are in separate alliances.

With all of these conflicting ideals then I can only assume that this year is going to have a lot of arguments, hopefully some of which will blow up tomorrow.

The lunch bell rings so myself and the other mentors all walk towards the elevators, leaving the non-mentoring victors and avoxes to clean up the results of so many arguments. I stand to the side of the elevator as we're taken down into the notetaking room, a cozy little lounge of a dozen or so couches and jsut as many monitors.

"This Hunger Games is getting too political," one of the male mentors says with a sigh. I turn to the voice and see that the person who made that sentiment was Roryd Sakon, to my shock. "I just want the best for the tributes without any hassles.

"That's rich," says Kyrenia. She joins me on my lounge chair with a computer to monitor the betting odds. I pull out my black book of patrons and see that I have an appointment for Gentilus Connel of the Capitol's entertainment district. "Black book?"

"Yes Kyrenia," I say in a matter of fact tone. "She's really streamlined it for us so I can't complain too much."

"You speak as if you enjoy it."

"It's not the act but what they say during the act. And my four patrons for this year have all promised to sponsor the career alliance. How many of your sponsors have had to do this?"

"Just so you know I am one for one. You do realize that Districts 1 and 4 are the most desirable, then it's District 7, 9, 8, 2, 11, 10, 5, 6, 3, and 12."

"Nothing on District 13?"

"Oh fuck off, you know what I mean." She leans in close as if to tell me a secret and whispers in my ear, "Josh and Yana are trying to get sponsors for them. They told them to swim today to get some images."

"As if you didn't shake what your mother gave you, or had your partner swing around his dagger."

She shuts up, hesitating before slapping me. "If our tributes weren't allies…" she huffs.

Such a bitch. I love it when our attitudes get all riled up. True passion. "Wanna play a quick game?"

She looks at me hesitantly before nodding. I can feel the air in the room fall down to a chill as I grab her hand and slam it on the table. With one hand on her wrist she almost squirms out before I bring out my blade, 4 inches and symmetrical to the nearest millimeter. Her eyes widen in fear as I begin to tap my toes.

 _I have all my fingers._ The song comes out naturally. Every beat I hit the spaces in between, knowingly avoiding her digits as she begins to scream in terror. _The knife goes chop chop chop. If I miss the spaces in between my fingers will come off. And if I miss my fingers, the blood will soon come out._ She's hysterical now, screaming louder and louder and attracting a crowd. _But all the same I play this game cause that's what it's all about._ _**Oh chop chop chop chop chop i'm picking up the speed. If i miss the spaces in between my hand will start to bleed oh a chop chop chop chop chop chop chop chop chop chop chop chop chop chop chop chop chop chop chop chop chop chop-**_ The fun is over when someone grabs my arm and holds it in the air. Gerald Montoya, my favorite of the 7-9 victors, holds my hand up in the air as he seems to be fuming. I'm scolded viciously and Kyrenia runs out of the room screaming.

I look to my idol, Roryd Sakon as he mutters something to his fellow victor, Lillian Perad. "Politics, always messing things up," I see him whisper to Lillian.

* * *

 _Neve Seren Orion, District 13 Female, 16 years old_

 _1:00-3:00_

A horde of avoxes comes over to take away our plates, piling them high on carts that they bus away to the kitchen and leave us to enter the room. I hang back, trying not to leave at the same time as Adam or Jakob. Adam leaves first since he's seated the closest to the door, fixing his black hair and casting a cursory glance over his shoulder. Janine is among the first 4 after Adam to leave, surely having caught onto our plan.

Several others begin to hesitate to leave as they try to take another slurp of water on in Erudite's case, spill the food on the floor in a manic frenzy. Once the careers finally exit out of the room I take my leave, straightening my chair as was custom in District 13 to the general shock of the avoxes. I don't think that they were expecting for someone to help them.

I barely make three steps out of the door when someone taps on my shoulder. I turn around to find the blond girl from the careers, as Joshua and Yana taught. She rests on the wall, arms crossed across her chest and flashing a little wink. Her district partner stands right next to her, emulating her expression and beckoning me over.

I try my best to look inconspicuous but judging by the sounds of metal clashing against metal, no one could be paying any attention. "So," the girl says. She stands up straighter, stretching to her full, quite tall height. " You thought you could hide from us forever, right 13?"

"Sorry I don't follow," I say as respectfully as I can muster.

"I see your plan. It's quite obvious," she bluffs. I roll my eyes and try to turn away, finding my shoulder caught by the girl.

"I know exactly your type. You're a rebel, aren't you?" Her question comes out in a much harsher tone than I think she's used to. "I see you cowards in District 1, and they're the same anywhere. You don't think that we can see you, that's what it is. You think you can just walk around, on your own agenda, harboring your own feelings, but know this. The true Districts of Panem can see the lies you've built up."

"Then what's the lie?" I ask almost innocently. "If you know that I'm lying then what's my lie?"

It's a common tactic, something that Anise likes pulling on me when I like lying, and something that's practically taught by my parents all the time. The girl turns around to her partner and I see the bold number one on the back of her training shirt. "Your little party doesn't stand a chance. And too bad. If only you weren't a rebel. Then I think we could have ended this conversation on better terms. Plus you're pretty cute."

She storms off, gripping at the top of her head and trying to walk straight. The boy from her District comes up, rolling his fingers on his temples and awkwardly apologizing. "I don't approve of District 13. I don't judge by what your forefathers did, but you're suspicious. Don't give us any more of a reason to suspect you."

He trudges after her, catching up to the other male careers as they finish their trial runs on the hurdles. I take a moment to catch my breath, leaning against the wall before walking to a station about fish hooks. The only other tribute there is the overreacting District 12 boy. "Aren't you the 13 girl?" he asks in a whisper. I nod and he seems to cackle to himself. "If the capitol has bugs then District 13 does to. So whoever is listening, make sure you know who gets to you safely."

"Okay then," I say, skirting him awkwardly as I move to a small space on shelter making depending on the setting. It seems fairly popular with the girls. If the man at the station wasn't a capitolite I have a fair feeling that Anise would also find him to be attractive. The girl closest to his left has finished building a small shelter for a fire. She lights a fire underneath and lets it run for 6 seconds before putting it out. The trainer smiles at her and she skips off.

On the other side I see a girl about my height and build trying to wrestle a flexible branch into an arch. It snaps back and she recoils, holding her chest in shock. She grits her teeth and plunges the branch into the dirt, satisfied. Judging by her brown ponytails and tanned skin, she must be Janine. I walk up to her and set up a station in between a strong built boy and her, waiting for the boy to leave.

Janine turns to me briefly before getting back to her station, trying to see if it's large enough for a medium sized fire-where medium is defined as a foot, or a baker's dozen of inches depending on who you ask. "Hi," she mumbles.

"Hello," i say a bit louder once the crowd clears. "I'm Neve. I think Adam told you about me?"

"Yeah," she says putting another piece of kindling under the shelter. "I'm not sure if I want to ally with someone who doesn't want to hang out for a while."

"I'm just trying to keep us lowkey. If you don't want to join you don't have to. I don't plan on killing and I don't think you do either."

I'm about to leave when she looks up. "WAit," she hisses. "If we wind up meeting in the arena, I promise not to attack. I don't want to attack. I just want to defend."

"Sounds fair," I say. "Don't expect the rest of us to uphold that request but we should all be on good terms." Janine looks around before darting off, probably looking for Adam. I spend some time trying to wrestle a tire into place before fastening it with a giant wooden plank.

"This is dangerous," he says bluntly. "All it would take is a small gust of wind and this plank would fly into the air."

I roll my eyes and leave the station, this time opting to go for the tree climbing station. AS I climb up the tallest tree, I realize just how much the sound is amplified up here. By all accounts it should be impossible but it works. The fact that I'm so high up is generally disillusioning. I catch wind of District 7's tributes talking intently below us.

"This is…" Juniper says, stammering. "I don't know what to do it's like we're being dropped into millions of pieces."

"Three alliances want us."

"Four," Juniper says. "Ember, Fabian, Atticus, and Valonia have their alliance. They want us too. I don't know what to do."

"District 4 won't hurt us and that is the only thing, right?"

I look down to see the two of them at the base of the tree, identifying different kinds of wood and acing the station quickly. Juniper seems to nod her head as she grips her sides. "I want to be with the careers or the semi careers."

"I'm fairly certain that the careers are good," Aster says glumly. "We might find space with District 13 or the Semi-Careers."

"My dad was a respected man. He never went into these kinds of politics," Juniper says as an aside glance.

"He's never had to fight for his life I'm assuming," Aster says almost bitterly. "I don't want to solidify anything with anyone. I don't trust that Ember girl though."

"So you won't ally with her?"

"Nope," Aster says. "I need some time to think on my own. And you might need to as well."

The two of them part ways and I drop from the tree down several branches. I catch wind of a girl and boy looking at me. I smile courteously at them before turning the other way. I don't think that our alliance could use them.

* * *

 _Atticus Landry, 16 years old, District 10 Male_

 _3:00-5:00_

With a last strain I hoist the one hundred and twenty five pound bar over my chest one last time. "Fifteen of them," Valonia says, impressed. She looks at Fabian who also seems to be pleased.

"It's nothing," I say humbly.

"Fuck yeah it wasn't," Ember snarks. I've still haven't gotten used to her cursing. "You and I probably lift heavy on a day to day basis. Much more Fab and Nia have been doing I'm sure."

Nia shrinks down and clings to Fabian before the two of them walk away. "You don't have to say it like that," I say, disgruntled at her action.

"I'm calling it like it is," she says bluntly. "The two of us are carrying this alliance. I hate to say it but 12 year olds don't-"

"They stand just as much a chance as the two of us," I reply bluntly. "Do you want to lead this alliance or not?" She rolls her eyes and begins to do several chin ups. "ARe you listening?" I ask, my voice rising. Fed up, I release the weights and let them clatter to the floor. That gets her attention. I don't give her the time of day and turn to the kids.

"We're good," Fab says bluntly. "I-I don't think it's safe to leave this alliance. Ember's really the best bet we have."

"What I just did was a dumb move. I don't think that she's going to let me back in," I say. "You guys can handle yourself, so I hope you all do well."

Nia actually looks lost, but she sticks with Fabian as I head off, trying to ignore Ember. I really don't know how I got roped into that alliance in the first place, especially under Ember's abrasive leadership. It...it sucks having to do this but I have to bite back the tears and find another way to survive.

It's about time to go and if the tributes do desire then they are able to, but I really need as much time as I can help. There isn't much that I like doing here, but I decide to go to the exotic weapon station, trying to find something unique. I find a hefty staff that feels just like a familiar shepherd's crook back home. I hold it out, emulating what my father typically does when guiding the sheep. The trainer calls me up and I gulp, trying to see what this entails.

"So, fan of the bo staff?"

I nod my head and she breaks into a smile. "Didn't think a cutie pie like you would go for such a firm staff. So, hold one hand about half a foot from the bottom, and keep about four feet in between, like this," she comes over and guides my hands, pressing in kind of tightly. "Perfect. Whenever you want to attack swing the bottom of the staff towards you and downward. Try it on that dummy over there. And no I'm not talking to that hunky District 4 boy."

I brush off her statement and stand about four to five feet from the dummy. With a stilted breath I swing forward and hit the dummy, hearing a blood bag rupture from the inside. I hit the right side before alternating side to side with every single spin. The trainer smiles and switches my bo staff for what seems to be a blade on a long stick. "This is called a Naginata. Hold it like a bo staff, it'll be good for offense."

I do alright with the weapon. I thank the trainer kindly and she expresses her hope to see me tomorrow. I head to wait in line for the obstacle course, recording my 5'9" height and 129 pounds. "I tried that trainer awhile ago," a boy says. "She's kind of flirty isn't she?"

"Oh I wouldn't know," I say quietly. Now that I think about it she had a fairly hands on approach compared to the other girls. "Is this your first time on the course?"

"Nah, but I don't know what to expect but I hope my grip strength would last. Also sorry to see you go through that. It was pretty uncomfortable for me too."

"Thanks for your sympathy," I say. The boy is probably the same age as I, give or take 2 years, a fair bit taller but that's about expected since District 10 is a very short District. He stretches out, lifting his shirt to wipe at his brow before jogging in place to stimulate himself. "I'm Atticus, District 10."

"Aster, District 7," he says, shaking my hand firmly. I exchange a smile with him as he wrings his hands uneasily.

"I take it you're up in the trees a lot? Working at at least ten feet tall?"

"Taller than that," he says.

The conversation seems to die a bit just before he's going up. "Thirty? That's kind of intimidating. I spend my days running through my family's complex and wrangling any stray sheep. They're scared of anything." He's calld up to run the course and I inwardly wish him good luck. I feel a slight tap on my shoulders and see a girl looking up at me.

"We want you in our alliance," she says simply. "My br-District partner saw you break out of Ember's alliance. I can go in your place but my brother wants to meet you."

She must be the District 9 girl, considering she mentioned her brother. "Sounds great," I say. A siren blares loudly as Aster completes the course. I look at him with a mix of envy and pride before turning around to face the girl. "Who else are you trying to get in the alliance?"

"We want to try to get District 7 in on our alliance but it seems like they're with the careers. My part-broth-partner thinks taht you're a good guy so we could do well with you," she says. She gulps hesitantly and looks around for someon else. "Well, I think that you have to go up. I don't want to hurt your partner so I'll try to convince her to join too."

With a prolonged exhale I look forward at the obstacle course just as it finishes. Then, My name is called and the trainer monitoring the obstacle course guides me up to the first step. "The time will begin when you take a step onto this first rope. Atticus Landry, good luck," he says. First up is a tightrope, three varying thicknesses that all criss-cross over each other. I take the widest one, one that seems to be about six inches across and make my way across easily.

The next obstacle is a bar across some separated rungs. I see the title as the salmon ladder and it clicks. My dad taught me that salmon often swim up waterfalls and rivers to swim. Thinking of my father telling me that when my mom took a temporary job as a river fisherwoman brings back happy memories. I jump up to reach the bar, pulling up and hoisting the bar. I reach the top and leap over the fix foot wall in my way.

My third obstacle seems to be an inclined rock climbing wall. I take a step on it and am shocked by the fact that it begins to slip down. I pull myself forward in a quick matter of time and take a moment to catch my breath as I regard the next obstacle. It looks to be a series of pillars that steadily increases, and I must carry some weights through it. It's a cinch quite frankly.

The final obstacle is timing a jump onto a spinning mushroom shaped obstacle and onto the swinging goal. As I count down from three, I slip, but I recover enough to grab onto the pole that is holding the swinging goal, and climb up. The obstacle course has taken me 4 minutes. Testers in the capitol took 10 minutes to take care of this variation. I am pleased with getting a faster time than most of the capitolitans.

"Wow, looks like she did have a good eye," a boy says in awe. "I'm Jensen. Naomi said we'd possibly have an alliance."

"Ok, if we meet up after the bloodbath then I'll join your alliance," I say kindly. He looks at me with a thoughtful xpression and nods before running off to join the District 9 pair. The clock on the wall says that it's time for much of the tributes to head up to the residences. The District 5 pair walks over first, then District 12, and we all file in intermittently. I join in as one of the last 25% to go upstairs and take the elevator up uneasily.

Why are there so many alliances this year?

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **I get that in previous chapters I may have been struggling with depictions. I'll try to justify that by saying that it was incredibly hard tackling group dynamics and shuffling the spotlight to all who needed it while keeping it accurate. To that person who thought I was faltering, I hope that I handled your character acceptably this chapter.  
Overall, I bet you guys are all concerned with the alliances that are springing up. I will tell you that it is going to be hard to kill off a grand majority of these characters when they're all allied, but their alliances ****will not last long. I'll tell you that.**

 **Sponsor Questions:**

 **1) For his set of exercises, how many of each does Desmond try to do? (2 points)**

 **2) When do the careers first notice Juniper? (3 points)**

 **3) What is it that Roryd says always messes things up? Why is it ironic? (4 points)**

 **4) With what is Janine trying to make an arch? (2 points)**

 **5) What does the hefty staff remind Atticus of? (2 points)**

 **Bonus: What is the largest alliance? Smallest? (1 point for each)**

 **For fun: Favorite Disney song? What are your guys' favorite colors?**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	26. Training, Day 3

_**Training Day 3:**_

 _Erudite Soot, 17 years old, District 12 Male_

 _7:50-9:00_

"Are you guys ready?" Ketrin asks the two of us. I take a glance at Naette as she nods in agreement. I've never really been ready but I'll be blustering through this.

Lillian hastily rushes us through the rest of our breakfast, almost causing me to choke and guides us to the elevator. I make delicate care not to press the buttons. They've already taken my blood once but what would stop them from doing it again? As we ride the twelve or so floors downstairs I can't help but to think about the past tributes.

I hope Telia is doing fine. She has 7 years before she could possibly be a tribute. I know that there's a party in District 12 that wants to leave to District 13 like Primrose did all those years ago. It's a common District 12 tendency to break the fourth wall so you don't mind if I do it here, right? I know Primrose did it even though she was gone way before I was gone.

I stop breaking the fourth wall when we reach the training floor, being the last ones to arrive. I split apart from Naette but I know that the two of us are in an alliance. Or at least we aren't going to hurt each other. Unlike the interviewers I wasn't given a drug that lets me read minds. The head trainer stands at the front of our semi circle and lets us know about the gamemakers are going to give us about 15 minutes to show our worth in private session, male, female, district order.

It's hardly news to anyone but District 13 who have been living under rocks for most of their life. I bet those rocks helped them grow strong and tall when they ate them. Either that or one of their leaders must have been Primrose Everdeen who gave them all drugs to succeed. I hardly notice her dismissing us and going to her usual place behind an office in the rock wall.

Even though we're in an alliance I note that Naette doesn't stay with me. I still want her to let me know how Telia is doing. It's always been a bad habit of mine to accidentally walk into people since I'm too lost in thought, but I think it's what the capitol wants us to do. They fill the air with chemicals to not have us look forward and notice the obvious. I don't know why they do that since if we aren't looking forward then we could create an accident that could murder at least three dozen individuals and warrant the creation of medals of honor for the surviving relatives.

But maybe that's what they want. Maybe that's their way of birth control. Condoms are hard to come by in District 12 and other poor District.

I stop in front of the safest station. The mapmaking station, and slam open a pen. I don't realize there's a girl right next to me until it's too late and she squeals in disgust. I think she's from District 3. "Hey, you might want to be careful," someone says abruptly. I turn to my right to find another short boy, about half a foot shorter than me. "We don't want accidents to cripple us here."

"Sorry," I hastily breathe out. I turn to the paper in front of me as a lecture on scaling is in front. With one of the rulers in my hand I begin to bend it and get to work sketching out what is described to me in another piece of paper.

"Nice work," I hear the girl say next to me. I turn with a quick glance to find her talking to her District partner. "So, how is that alliance with that District 11 girl going?"

"She wants another member, so if you're willing to join I can pep it up and convince her forward," he says kind of excitedly.

"But I already have somethign with Jon and Nidawi," the girl objects.

"They have more connection with each other. If you join us you probably won't be the shortest."

"That's your campaign?" she snickers. "I mean the two of us can probably work together."

"Didn't Batteron say that 3 was a lucky number for alliances?"

"I thought that Tranfera said that 3 is only our lucky number because that's our district and that we should be in groups of four."

I begin to tune out their conversation and return to the description in front of and to the right of my draft paper. I sculpt out a vaguely bottle shaped land that seems to be a Desert land because my next instructions are to use brown. Like everything here, I'm suspicious of the color since those colors have chemicals that adjust how we think. Nonetheless I apply it everywhere but the boundaries given and turn the map in to the trainer. Like yesterday she smiles and puts a sticker on it, explaining that I don't have to prioritize the topography of the map.

It's not like that advice would help me out the arena. We have to learn a bit about topography in District 12 in order to accommodate for the mines. I need to tell Naette so she can relay this information to Telia. I hear a little whiff near my shoulder and turn abruptly, almost scaring the poor District 3 boy. "Umm, hey.." he starts of awkwardly. "I'm Fabian of District 3. Zippina and I are more than willing to not kill you if that happens, and if something happens to our alliance w'll be willing to team up with you."

"Oh," I say knowingly. "You just want me as fodder. Don't worry, I'm willing to join, but...be honest with me okay?"

"What do you mean?" he asks with reticence.

"You just want me to act as bait for either your alliance or Zippina's separate alliance, right? I'm all the more willing to comply, don't get me wrong here, but I can see how you'll screw me over. You'll run into the bloodbath with me, throw me in front of a stray knife or shoe or pick axe and use my body as a shield. If I choose to stick with Zippina's alliance first and foremost then I'll be the one picking up things from high locations and scoping out the area until a chandelier falls on my head, acting as a shield for you guys."

He's still silent so I continue rambling. "I dont' see why you want me in your alliance. Naette may be more cooperative, buf since you asked me first I am saying yes. Just let it be known that I'm willing to sacrifice myself so long as you guys make it out of the arena. Be it that District 11 girl, the District 10 girl, the District 5 pair, you, your partner, or Zippina. I just want you to know that strength in numbers only reduces a chance of death. If I join you, Fabian, then there would still be a 25% of one of you dying in the bloodbath assuming you expect one of you to die in the bloodbath. The same goes to Zippina."

"Are you in or not?" He asks, a little impatiently. I've had a tendency to spook eople and I admire fabian for not flinching. I nod willingly. "What's the catch?"

I drop my voice to a low whisper and lean close to his ear. "Get my sister out of District 12. You make the technology that controls people, so communicate to her that she has to join a merchant crew out to District 13 or hitch a ride on the train."

He nods in supposed understanding and wanders off, probably to talk to Zippina or Naette. I turn back to the trainer who looks at me with an unusual glance. I hope that whatever information I get is going to get to Telia somehow. She could damn well use most of what I'm learning. I just hope that she could make it out.

 _Regan Attwater, 18 years old, District 4 Male_

 _8:54-10:05_

"Thing about clubs is that they have a lot of momentum," Layla explains. She's holding three knives in one hand as I try experimenting with the bludgeoning weapon. I take several experimental swings and wind up slamming it into the side of a dummy, letting it fall with a satisfying thud.

"Not bad," I comment as I turn to Layla. She flashes a grin and turns to Antoinette as they discuss the logistics of a knife spinning as it hits it target. Many times in the past I've seen a knife go in one temple and head out the other. Layla throws her three knives in quick succession, hitting about the midpoint of a triangular target quite easily. She cheers giddily and drags Antoinette into what seems to be an uncomfortable hug.

I'm alerted by Nikos to the minor semi-career alliance as they set up shop near the wrestling station. The two shorter tributes, the District 9 girl and the District 8 boy, scamper off to the tree climbing area while the boys from 7 and 9 work on the wrestling mat. "Hey," Nikos says hesitantly. "District 1 can't kill District 9 purposefully. And I know that District 4 is hesitant on killing those from District 7 until the final eight, like always."

"I can tell where this is going."

"So if it comes down to it I'll kill the two from District 7. And you'll kill the two from District 9."

"I'm not necessarily agreeing with it, but I know it's a necessary evil. Why is it Districts 1 and 9 anyways?"

"The two first bisexual victors were a man from 1 and a man from 9. They fought through a lot in order to maintain their loving relationship until the man from 9 died in the year of the 71st Hunger Games. And the first volunteer was the same man from District 1," he explains.

"Didn't know that part," I say. "He was from District 1?"

"And came out victorious. Leopold Mustang won the 7th Hunger Games at 16 years old when he volunteered for his crippled brother and came out with 7 kills. But it wasn't until the next decades the career academies were installed."

"Do you spend all of your time in a library or something?"

"Yeah, with my brother." I don't push the subject as he turns kind of weary eyed and drones off.

"Regan!" I turn to Layla as she grins madly, her hair kind of wild. Desmond and Kimberly seem to be having an educational conversation as Antoinette fixes her hair. "Temperature training. You're welcome to join us if you want."

"Don't worry, I'll be with you faster than a tiger shark. I'm going to check on the semi-careers, can't give them too much of an advantage," I say with a wink. Juniper stands behind Layla and seemingly swoons at me. I wave the lot of them off and head towards the wrestling mat, where it seems that the District 9 boy, Samuel, has just pinned Aster. I begin clapping loudly and walk up to the two of them. "Pretty good job boys, you two looked pretty strong, bet it was a close one."

The two of them look at me quietly before getting up, each dusting the other off. Both of them are fairly muscular, with Samuel a bit more bulky in the legs and having more tone compared to Aster, who is taller and has a slight scar on his arm. "Thanks I guess," Samuel speaks up, laughing awkwardly.

"If he can defeat you Aster," I say, walking to the side. "Surely Samuel can defeat me. Now, don't worry Aster you can wrestle me to the ground later. Maybe tonight if you wish." At my last word I take off my shirt and throw it to the side, taking in the cool air of the training center. "I'm sorry, is this making you uncomfortable Samuel?"

The curly haired boy curls his lips and manages to get out a simple no. "I don't...we don't really train without our shirts in district 9," he stammers.

"Then you don't have to, but you know the arena, they may force our shirts off." Samuel looks back at Aster, me, Aster, and then reluctantly takes off his shirt, revealing a lean body with a significant amount of tone. "I don't see why you'd be scared, you're almost as good looking as the folks back home. Is that a six pack I see?"

The blushing Samuel shoos away Aster for a while, stretching his limbs hesitantly. "Do you want me to put all of my effort on this?"

"I'd be insulted if you didn't." I do my best to look reticent as we get into a stance, locking arms with each other. He's stronger than he looks, definitely. He catches me off guard when he slips his hand to my back and grabs my waist, twisting me forward and making me lose my balance. I try to lock his head in his headlock but he swings himself forward and loops his arms under my leg. I go down with a heavy thud as he pins me down for three seconds. "That's your best?" I ask.

He makes a scratching motion at the back of his head and sighs. "I didn't expect your moves so… I'm not used to making that looping grab."

"If you aren't used to doing that then I'm sure as hell intimidated as to what you can do when you're used to it," I say. He gets off of me and helps me up, stretching his back. "But I did come over for business."

"Huh?"

"How about this? I won't hurt you or your sister until your final nine. If we meet up before then I'll squeeze you in the alliance."

"My sister?"

"Oh, Kimberly can take care of her," I lie. It's easy to do but I think I'll have District 9 under my shoulders. "Look, you're definitely a strong guy, I'm not going to mess with you in hand to hand combat, but don't mess with me when it comes to weapons, okay? Do we have something?"

He shakes his head in agreement. "I'd be a fool to say we don't."

With a smile from ear to ear, I take care to flex my chest, attracting and intimidating him at once. "Nice, now let me see if I can beat Aster. Don't worry I won't take him for too long."

He puts on his shirt and swaps places with Aster on the bench, taking a swig of water from under the bench. "Do I have to take my shirt off?" he asks reluctantly.

"You don't have to, but I just took off my shirt so you can't use it against me," I explain nonchalantly. He's about three inches taller than Samuel despite their similar build. "Nasty scar there."

"I fell one day, that's all there is to it," he hastily whispers. After a moment of hesitation he too takes off his shirt and enters a fighting stance. The two of us push against each other for a prolonged period, waiting for one of us to give way, and it's him. I push him the ground and swing my legs over him, keeping him pinned for three seconds.

"You almost had me there," I compliment. "Glad to know that one of the few people I have a non-aggression pact with is capable of fighting. It's still on, right?"

He begins to nod his head against the push of my arm at his neck and pushes me off. "Nothing has changed," he says. With my agenda satisfied I grab my shirt to wipe at my brow, hearing the two of them converse. I hope that they don't spill two much. I bet that Kyle would think they're cute too.

I hesitate at the door to the temperature training room registering just what I've thought, and once again have to reassure myself that Kyle will be back home if everything goes to plan. Everything has to go to plan. I won't let my family name die with me.

 _Naomi Palmer, 12 years old, District 9 Female_

 _9:57-11:03_

"What was he doing with your brother?" Jensen asks me. I look at the District 4 boy as he moves from the wrestling station. I'm kind of confused to see him stop just in front of the temperature room before holding open the door.

"Training," I say a bit nonchalantly. "When was it that tribute combat was allowed?"

"Depends on if you're talking about hand to hand or weapon combat. Weapon combat between tributes were allowed since the 80th and hand to hand combat was allowed for the 4th quell," he says. I continue digging a hole, lamenting the dirt in my fingernails but continuing to dig. I sift through the pile I've built up and find three of the seven mushrooms that were in the square. I begin to dig faster but it turns out that Jensen had the other four. "So these are gastroid mushrooms? And they're edible?"

"Yeah seems like it. Wait I recognize these! These are my dad's favorite snacks," I exclaim. "He'd bring home ten of these after a long day, eat five of them, and give one to me, Samuel, Chase, Sidney, and mom. He said that it was getting harder to find them, and when he did they were more expensive."

"I'm not used to mushrooms. Did they taste good?"

"Yeah these taste pretty good," Atticus chimes in, joining us. "We used these kinds of mushrooms to top our meals at home. They aren't much."

"I wish I could try one of these now, but seeing this in the dirt, uhh….Curtis said something about whatever we find in the training center would likely be in the arena," I muse. Jensen nods dutifully and keeps digging. Why we're digging I don't know but it may be helpful in the arena. Out of the corner of my eye I see Samuel and Aster walking to us, a bit flustered with the district 4 boy. "What did he want?"

"He wanted to see what he was worth," Aster says quietly. He turns to Jensen and quietly points out the slight difference between two mushrooms. I turn to Samuel as he rubs his forehead and begins plucking out the edible parts of a very picky plant.

"What did...regan want from you?" I ask, the District 4 boy's name almost escaping me. He looks at me with a sense of wariness in his eyes and turns to his plants. I can feel that he doesn't want to explain yet. "I'm almost done with this, can we try the one station with the foreign weapons?"

"I think we need something to let our minds wander, so we can try that station," he says in his quiet voice. "Aster, Jensen, Atticus, do you guys want to join the two of us?"

Aster looks at him hesitantly before shaking his head, continuing to point out different plants with Jensen. "We'll head off to the pool or temperature station. We'll meet up at lunch?" We all seem to agree at his suggestion and split off.

"So do you want to tell me now?" I ask Samuel.

His breath seems to hitch as he pushes me a little further to the station with weapons from ancient Japan and Africa. He takes his spot next to me. It's a crowded station with several other tributes. I think I recognize even a career or two mixed in with us. Samuel catches his breath after one of the careers launches a nasty looking knife to a target about fifteen feet in front of us. "Regan wanted to get us in a little agreement," he explains tiredly. "If we don't hurt him before the final 9 he won't hurt us."

"Is it just like District 1?"

"A bit shorter than that but basically. It seems like we have a lot of friends this year."

"That's not a good thing, right?" When he shakes his head I mirror him in understanding and pick up a weapon that looks like a heavier pair of clackers. The sign in front of it says that its called Bolas. "Bolas?"

"That's the word to identify one of it. Says its for trapping and range. It's heavy to act as something of a neck snapper or a strangler," he winces. I hold the two balls in my hands and find that yes, they are heavy, but I have a hard time fathoming just how it can wrap around someone. I give the weapon to Samuel and he takes a position at the throwing station next to a tall girl. Holding the string high above his head like a lasso, he throws it forward and it wraps around the dummy. The dummy falls over and he winces.

"Good job," the girl says. Then she joins her alliance and begins talking. I pick out a syringe and impulsively prick it against the tablecloth, with it letting out a small drop of water. Under the card for the syringe is a description as to how Cecelia Turner used a similar weapon to dispose of the District 12 boy when the careers brought him to torture.

I freeze up. I don't want to go out tortured like that one boy in the 85th Hunger Games, or the third runner up to the 117th Hunger Games or the-

"Are you okay?" the trainer asks hastily. He wrenches the syringe from my hand and guides me to a separate station- this one devoted to rope making and rope testing. I grab a small eight inch strand in my hands and begin weaving the ropes together to make a pot-holder. It's not much. I look at my brother as he has a final glance at the weapons table before joining me.

"I'm worried."

"So am I," he agrees half-heartedly. "I just want this to be over. This...this is tiring."

"Would it be as tiring if I wasn't here?"

"I haven't thought about that, and I don't want to think about that." He drops his weapoms and runs his hands through his hair just like dad. "It's happened and there's nothing we can do but work to fix it. It's probably my damn fault we're in this mess."

"Samuel, I want to help and if it means leaving-"

"No." Every time I've brought up leaving he's cut it off. "Out of the question. We've established that. Sorry for lashing out. I just want this to be over."

"So do I."

 _Ember Hayfield, District 11 Female, 17 years old_

 _11:10-11:55_

As much as I hate to admit it, I very well may be screwed. I'm trying not to let my anger show and give Fabian nor Valonia a scare. I grab a five pound weight from the weight training station and with permission bring it to Valonia. "What should I do with this?" she asks. She opens her eyes doefully and and I pat her on the head.

"Try running with it. Just try the flat track, and see if you can get pretty far with it," I explain, trying to give off an air of carelessness. Valonia nods in understanding and holds the wight in her hands as the trainer sets up the track to some smooth plastic.

"I'll give that a shot, maybe with a stick or backpack," Fabian says. He asks an attending trainer to grab a backpack for him and fill it with assorted goods. "Maybe some food, water, a pair of knives, some socks, and maybe a piece of plastic."

The trainer relays the information to a peacekeeper who brings the bag over to him under the condition that Fabian himself will return the items to the proper stations. Valonia runs a lap around the 100 meter track to get a time of 50 seconds. It's an impressive time but she's straining with the weight and dumps it into my lap. "That was hard," she says. "You want to try?"

Her voice has been steadily getting perkier and perkier with every hour and every statement, and it's getting kind of irritating. Still I remain polite and take the weight only to swap it with a 20 pound plate. "Can you change the terrain to grass?" The trainer rolls her eyes and changes it to a grassy texture. When I step on it it feels somewhat natural, almost like home when I used to race my brothers and their girlfriends.

I hold the weight plate securely on my forearms and rush forward through the grass, holding tightly and making the lap in prompt time. I manage to get a time of 25 seconds. "Wow," Fabian says in shock. "As my friends in my recreational club back home would say, that's worth as much as water in a desert or rust in a deoxygenated environment."

I blink at his compliment-at least I'm assuming that it's a compliment. "Thanks," I murmur. I take a seat on the bench next to Valonia as she shakes a bit before smiling brightly. Fabian asks to change the terrain to a little more of a rocky terrain instead and I see him wince through the pain as he makes several laps around. "Yeah?" I ask when I feel a tap at my shoulder.

"What are you most scared of in the arena?" Valonia asks me.

"Kid, I don't know. There's a lot of things," I say quietly. "I don't want to go out like that girl in the 148th Games. She stepped on a trap and was impaled in the leg. She was alive for six hours."

"I remember her," Valonia dotes. "I thought she drowned?"

"Because the rainwater flooded her pit. My brother hasn't been the same ever since."

"I dont' want to get gored by a bull. My...my dad was...he was in the barn and...he had two holes his chest," she says quietly. "It wasn't pretty and my brother and I were the first to find him." She's already close to tears and I let her rest her head on mine.

Fabian stumbles over to us rubbing his feet. From the counter in the center of the track I see that he has sixteen laps around the track. "I walked a lot at home but I thought I could use some practice on different terrain," he says. "There are people to avoid in District 3 so my friend and I often take the long ways around the factories in District 3."

The three of us simply sit for about ten minutes before it's Valonia who gets up, putting on a smile as she runs to the obstacle course, asking if she can try it again. They aren't going to adjust for her height so she's just trying to get past the swinging monkey bars. "Hey," I say to Fabian. "Close your eyes until the clock says 4 minutes and eighteen seconds."

"Why?"

"They don't give clocks in the arena so we have to learn how to track time." I already have a good knack for it so as he waits on the sidelines I keep an eye on Valonia and the clock as it ticks up from 3:29. When Valonia slips after jumping from balance beam to balance beam I change my position to watch Fabian and the clock. "Four minutes and twenty seconds," I say when he opens his eyes.

"Dammit," he murmurs. "So fucking close yet- sorry, I curse when I get frustrated. I never really liked time."

"Well I don't like the taste of inflated watermelon."

"What?"

"Exactly. I didn't ask for your opinion on time," I say curtly. Okay, that might have been mean but I can't risk getting attached after we shared our sob stories. "Hey 'Nia," I call out to Valonia. "Feel free to run around for a bit. The three of us will meet at lunch."

Before any of them can object I walk off to the spear station. With my hand on a spear that's about six feet long I twirl it, rotating it in my hands as I look straight ahead to the human shaped target. I've been here with the alliance before so the trainer recognizes me. "I"m just trying for distance today," I explain politely but coolly.

The trainer nods and steps off to the right, leaving me with ample room to practice throwing. After a moment of hesitation I let the spear fly and it lands slightly to the left of the recommended throwing arc and about five feet from the target 15 meters away. The trainer moves to go pick up the spear as I throw another one. It goes farther but a bit further off target. I decide to walk away from the spears today.

It's about lunch anyways, and I sure as hell need to think. I'm not too sure being a villain like Thorn reccommended is going to help out in the long run. I'm still going to make the best of this situation, even if these two allies kill me before it comes to term.

 _Nidawi Sebille, 17 years old, District 5 Female_

 _Lunch: 12:03-12:59_

The cafeteria is a simple room in the building without many daily changes. I walk with Jon to our table for the last couple of days with a tray of food. He's told me that he and his family had food like this but it was usually of cheaper quality. Living with Artair and the group meant that meat was something of a commodity. I've taken a liking to the piece of meat they describe as prime rib.

I wipe at my mouth as I catch two figures coming up to us out of my periphery vision. "Hi Zippy," Jon says. The third member of our alliance takes a seat next to her District Partner, a boy a little taller than Jon who's actually fairly handsome. "Is that Fabian?"

"Yeah, you can call me Fab if it fits," Fabian replies. Sitting next to him is the other short girl, the one from District 10 named Valonia. Next to her is probably the tallest tribute in the games, the District 11 girl. She sits kind of distanced from us. "Ember is with us," Fabian says when he sees my worry.

Our alliances group together in something of a small circle. Taking a quick headcount I see that 6 of us are at least somewhat allied. The careers seem to stand at 7 strong right now but I have no idea why they don't have more. I remember in years past that they let up to four semi-careers into their alliance but this year they only have one.

The semi career alliance this year seems to have five people. District 9 seems to lead the alliance of four boys and one girl. As I use on this thought, Valonia gets up and moves to refill her plate. I decide to join her, she seems pretty nervous, and she does have to walk past the careers. I saw one of them threatening the District 13 girl.

She winces when I walk next to her but slowly eases up. "Hi," she says kindly. "You're with Jon right? And Zippy?"

"Yeah, I'm Nidawi," I say quietly. She smiles and begins to walk at a quicker pace when we pass the table of seven careers. They don't seem to pay us mind but I can't shake the feeling that the District 2 boy is monitoring everyone. "Have you tried the turkey?"

"A lot of times. In District 10 you have to be a crazy vegan in order to not have had meat at least once. I want to try that red fruit. What is it called?"

"Oh, Watermelon," I say. "It's pretty juicy so you might want to have another napkin. Just don't make a mess." I point her in the direction of the fruits and can see her mouth droop open at the selection. She piles them up high and high before walking over. I grab some prime rib, celery, and drip some kind of sauce all over it before returning to the table.

The group isn't anything like home, no matter how many of us are there and no matter how many laughs Jon, Fabian, or Valonia gives us, but it's still pretty fun. Even Ember lets in a witty quip once in a while. Zippy and I seem to have the same train of thought and look at the remaining partnerships. I don't know why the boy from District 11 didn't partner up with Ember nor do I understand the District 8 girl not joining the semi-careers. They seem to have paired up.

"Nidawi you alright?" Jon asks. Suddenly I see all of their faces directed towards me. I shake off their gazes and they resume their conversation. Their voices seem to blend in with the others as I scope out Naette and Erudite, who are sitting at the same table but on opposite ends, seemingly not talking to each to each other. Finally I see District 13 and 6's alliance all scattered about, almost in separate corners, each observing the others on their own.

The clamor in the cafeteria begins to die down and we all slowly return to our food. I exchange a quick smile with Jon before he gets up to grab more food. Fabian follows shortly after with his eye wandering a little south before looking up quickly. Emmeline says that a lot of the victors think that Jon and I would make a good couple.

Almost immediately Artair's dashing red hair flashes across my mind, and I'm struck by a sense of nostalgia. It's almost a grim reminder that I have him and the gang to make it back to. Gone are the days that we can laugh at the simplest thing, but now JOn and I have to grow up-

A loud crash causes all eyes to turn to the center of the cafeteria. A light laugh picks up as Zippina and I crane our heads to see the District 12 girl fallen over in full view of the careers. She's faceplanted into some noodles and is picking away at it. Almost immediately we hear another voice "Oh fuck off, she just tripped," followed by another "Excuse me for thinking it's funny how that leaf stuck to her face."

I'm joined by several others as we run to comfort the District 12 girl and guide her away but the tensions are still rising. "Guys, what the fuck?" Fabian curses.

"Oh look at you standing up to us," one of the careers says absentmindedly.

"Come on, lay off of him," a meeker voice comes from the careers, however more timid. All of us have our gazes locked at the stain in the center of the room. The tension is broken once again when the boy from District 12 slams his plate of fruits and vegetables on one of the careers.

"I'm sorry but what did she do?!" one of the boys in the careers says angrily.

"Y'all are the same!" the boy says erratically. The girl he dumped his food on runs her hand through her black hair and almost slaps it across the boy's face when one of the other careers, the attractive boy from District 4, gets the bright idea to throw a piece of cake at him. In retaliation one of the others from the 6/13 alliance throws a piece of bacon, but it hits the District 7 girl instead.

Pure mayhem erupts, all tension of the past days culminating in an almost harmless food fight. I see Ember and Valonia ducking under the table and follow suit as the others seem to continue to pelt each other with food. I get hit with a blueberry but get off better than Jon, who has a giant streak of sauce along his mouth.

The chaos is over when we hear the voice of the bear mutt chime in on the intercom. " **For fuck's sake!** " the voice on the intercom shouts. " **You district folk are all the fucking same! Don't think that this is exclusive to mentors or exclusive to the tributes! This is not a workable angle for ANYONE OF YOU! Avoxes...please… clean up the messes on the tributes and in the cafeteria… fucking teenage hooligans.** "

Jon runs a finger through the streak of sauce on his face and licks it. "Tastes like chicken."

* * *

pstrongHey Guys, Hopps here/strong/p

pstrongSo I really have trouble with ending off these chapters, but I thought we may have needed some comic relief... as you can tell I probably prefer a lighthearted hunger games. Also, These perspectives may have run long, so I'm sorry if your tribute through these training days did not get as much to say as the others, I did try my hardest, but a lot of others have a lot to say./strong/p

pstrongForecast for next chapters:/strong/p

pstrongScores: All tributes with a brief play by play:br /emHoppsHungerFan decided to run the obstacle course three times in a row, always getting a time under four mintues. He then went on to earn 67% in the edible plants and threw three knives into a tribtues' skullbr /span style="text-decoration: underline;"HoppsHungerFan: A FIVE?! AYYY IT'S LIT (DAB)/span/embr /strong/p

pstrongInterview (skipping interview prep/ Hera Iode)/strong/p

pstrongNight Before the games: 13 tributes/strong/p

pstrongHovercraft, last prep, countdown: 4,5,4 tributes respectably, no overlap with night before the games/strong/p

pstrongSponsor questions:/strong/p

pstrong1: Who does Erudite meet at the mapmaking station? (2 points)/strong/p

pstrong2: What is Samuel not used to doing? (3 points)/strong/p

pstrong3: When does Naomi get pulled aside to a separate station? (2 points)/strong/p

pstrong4: How did the girl Ember describe die? (4 points)/strong/p

pstrong5: Who starts the foodfight? (1 point)/strong/p

pstrongBonus: Which Districts get a victory during the 6th decade of the Hunger Games: emlook in my companion fic/em(1 point per correct District)/strong/p

pstrongHopping out/strong/p

pstrongHopps/strong/p

P.S.

APRIL FOOL'S BEEYOTCHES!


	27. Training Evaulations

_**Private Sessions**_

 _ **Comments from HeadGamemaker Jacobsin Calirosso:**_

 **The team that made up the scoring commitee was all 65 gamemakers. In my 3rd year of being the active gamemaker My team of scorers is slowly becoming solidified. Like every year before, we give the tribtues 15 minutes to go through their training session with trainers and avoxes available on requests. Under my employ as a Hunger Games gamemaker, I have seen the victor come out with an average training score of an eight. It is not impossible for a girl to** **score** **a 4 and win against a career who has earned an 11.**

 **The standard scores remain the same this year. As was the case for years past, the score is displayed as being given in a range from 1-12, yet we do not see any cases for a 1 or 12, making the true range being from 2-10 as it has been for the past century and a half.**

 **Myself, Malaya Scarlon, Aderion Shorin, Irradia Manir, and Corrin Dexter have signed off on this following document**

* * *

 _Nikos Marbello, 18 years old, District 1 Male_

 _As to be expected from a District 1 male with at least eight years of training, he spent seven of his fifteen minutes wielding a sword with the fluidity of a blade of grass floating in the wind. Of his seven minutes he spent three of them wildly gesticulating and trying his best to emulate his mentor's strategy. The remaining 3 minutes with his sword were spent in one on one combat. Though he had many opportunities to win, he encouraged his opponent, one of our trainers, to continue fighting._

 _The mercy displayed may as well provide the death of him, and it was for this reason I could not unfathomably give him an 11. He still proved to be reasonably competent with his weapon of choice. I have to wonder if Jasper was adept as he was. He was lacking a bit of pure energy to show us so I do speculate if he is withholding information. Out of three general spar,s he won each of them in 4/3 of a minute and left the trainer feeling satisfied_

 _As he put away his sword he went to the throwing weapons station, cutting an arc through the air with a long spear. Of his three shots, two of them landed square in the stomach and one had the fortune of cutting through a moving dummy's head. His remaining 2 minutes was spent lighting a fire and using a rope to launch a dummy into it._

Divine, Glisten, Layla, and I sit on the couch with our escort as we wait for my score to show up. In my times with Maxon, Juliet, Bella, and Jasper, we always thought that the highest scorer among us would get an 11, and we all agreed that Jasper would get that 11. I still think he would, and I'll be lucky to get an 8. The lowest any victor from District 1 has gotten was a nine.

"Nikos Marbello, our District 1 Male tribute," Hera Iode reads in a monotonous tone. "Has attained a score of 10." Cheers erupt and I get clapped on the shoulder. I knew I never would have gotten an 11, that was Jasper's job, but I know that I'm making him proud. As I fiddle with his broken watch, I still can't help but think that he'd be proud of me. I'm sure he is.

* * *

 _Layla Ranevall, 18 years old, District 1 Female_

 _Layla Ranevall was the next to show up. She had her beautiful blond hair behind her in an almost messy bun as to not inhibit sight. She fixed her shirt before beginning, giving many of us male gamemakers a tease for what she could provide for the market. The girl pointed flirtatiously at the gymnastics station, taking a running start from her initial position ten feet away from the gamemakers. Jumping not off of the trampoline but off of the hard training center floor, she made a leap at least seven feet across and nine feet high onto one of the hanging bars, showing her proficiency at flips and landing._

 _She gave a small bow before turning to the dainty little knives and throwing them all over the place, seemingly not caring. I think she even threw one of them over her head. What caught my eye was her wink before running to retrieve those knives, many of which were located a considerable distance. Of the 12 knives discarded, she picked up 10 of them from the ground and threw it at a moving bulls-eye in the middle of the room, and dove underwater to grab the other two knives, hitting them at lower targets._

 _It was surprising to say the least, but when she came out with hair dripping down and her training clothes fully accenting her body, I and many other gamemakers just had to take a look. After leaping out of the water, she threw the final knives at a bullseye, drying off by running in a desert simulation. She recovered from a hasty stumble and gave us all a bow before storming out. From her microphone we could hear a scream as she left._

After my training lesson I did scream. I showed off too much of myself and it wasn't what I needed. I'm sure my parents wouldn't have minded but I've been on edge ever since connecting the dots that Neve and by extension Jakob were all the same rebel sort. I channeled my anger incorrectly but at least I showed off my skill in gymnastics. I'll be lucky to get a seven.

"Layla Ranevall, our District 1 female tribute," Hera Iode continues. Everyone around me is suitably anxious but riding off of the joy from Nikos' 10. We wait several more seconds before, "a training score of 9," echoes from the television. I scream loudly, half in frustration and half in joy. I'm on par with most of the victors, so I can't be too bad. And my parents think I'm doing well.

* * *

 _Desmond Pick, 18 years old, District 2 Male_

 _Desmond walked in with a kind of subdued confidence that comes about from maintaining composure. I'm sure he has done this work previously as the various victors monitored his dutifully monitored private sessions, no doubt similar to what he is currently going through. He politely introduced himself. The Capitol may love politeness but I take a more pragmatic approach and do think that it would hold him back._

 _With a smile he picks up a lighter sword than what I have noted that Nikos selected from the rack. Curiously he also picked up a katana, notably straying away from the ancient gisarme despite the availability of the weapon in the District 2 academy and the proficiency of previous tributes. He politely asked for a trainer, holding both swords in his hands. With a polite smile ever on his face he let the female trainer go, citing ladies first. The trainer swung basically, but Desmond caught the weapon with both of his swords, disarming the trainer on the spot._

 _He tried again, this time holding one of his hands behind his back as they entered a classic array of sword play through the various obstacles of the arena. Like Nox Merdon, he dutifully employed a spin every now and again to catch the trainer off guard, and eventually knocked the poor girl on her ass. Desmond left to a suited round of applause. I am a fan of swordplay so the odds are in his favor._

I sit on the couch with Antoinette at my side while our party of victors stands behind us, each sipping away at their various drinks. Desmond and Layla both attained tens so I feel as though I made the right choice in allying with them. Time will tell if they would benefit the other tributes. I look at Antoinette as she gulps nervously but smiles nonetheless.

"Desmond Pick of District 2 has earned our first 11," Hera continues. The image of my headshot flickers away and I am met with a smattering of applause. The legendary 11 was first given to the 6 careers of the 21st Hunger Games. It means little when a victor comes out with an 11 almost every six years but still, it hearkens to my skills.

* * *

 _Antoinette Vermur, 18 years old, District 2 Female_

 _I can tell that a significant portion of the gamemaking team is curious about the reaped tribute from District 2. Several victors from District 2 have been reaped so it is not impossible for a girl like her to win the crown. From what the records from the training academy say she's orphaned. Orphaned tributes are typically forced to mature faster so they are harder to look out for._

 _Antoinette opened her training session with a bow to us. Adding flourish to her step compared to days past, she moved to the daggers and blow-darts section, carrying ten in her belt before stepping to the rock climbing section. She asked for a timer and climbed the 50 foot wall in three minutes. A little below the average but she held up her shirt to show that she had made no scars on her stomach. Taking a careful aim, she dropped ten feet to a little cliff-shelf and pointed to several targets._

 _It was to our shock that she managed to hit a majority of the targets. Out of the five targets outline, she had thrown 9 of her knives into them. After getting a feel for her unlucky first shot, she hit five bullseyes with as many knives and hit four other targets in the proficiency zone. Climbing down the remaining 40 feet, she decided to run around the track with a weighted pack and ran 100 meters in 21 seconds. She bid us farewell shortly afterwards._

I'm not as good as Desmond but I do know damn well that I did my best in the private training center. I put on a smile because I truly am happy at Desmond's 11 but I do worry for my own score. Everyone knows that an 11 for District 1 is about a 9 for District 2 and a 10 for District 4, but I feel like this year they are comparing us to fellow tributes this year, not to tributes of years past.

"Antoinette Vermur, our reaped tribute from District 2, has earned herself a 10," Hera Iode simply states. It's a great score, in the double digits, and I'm proud of myself but I'm not as good as Desmond. Yet it's something to look up for

* * *

 _Fabian Drason, 16 years old, District 3 Male_

 _The boy from District 3 has seemed to be nothing of note lately. We have dug up information that he was a participating member of a very prominent school club and wants the best for all. He walked in while brushing his hair to the side and smiling, looking quite handsome. The resemblance to my younger brother is duly noted._

 _Fabian Drason started off his session by walking over to the map making station, folding his paper into a cute looking bird. He climbed with his bird about a quarter of the way up the rock wall, dropping it and making it land upright on the mat. I had to give him a small amount of applause in spite of Corrin's befuddlement. He climbed down from the wall to the rope making station, producing a rope about half an inch in diameter which he made into a circle._

 _The circle was draped flat in front of the rock-climbing wall and Fabian recovered his bird before climbing up again. He dropped his bird and it landed upright in the foot wide diameter of the circle. It was a nice scene, but I could tell he wasn't done with the circle. Though the material was flimsy he used the rope to fully wrap around a dummy, simulating how he'd choke a potential tribute._

I begin to worry as the District 2 girl's 10 glimmers away. I recognize her as the one who got dumped on. She was about to slap the poor boy who did that yet hesitated. According to Batteron the foodfight was not technically unprovoked combat as no real weapons were used. But I do recall that a girl in the 100th Hunger games got stabbed through her neck with a carrot.

My face comes on with me trying my best to look confident. I hold onto the pillow tightly- I haven't been this nervous since Calico told me what happened with that scumbag. "Fabian Drason, the District 3 Male tribute, has earned a five."

 **Five?!** That's half of what the District 2 girl got! Suddenly fear begins to sweep over me.

* * *

 _Zippina Cayen, 16 years old, District 3_

 _One of the shortest girls of this year stepped into the room after we called her with something of a...gay walk for lack of better words. Zippina stands at just 4'9". As you can expect even with our higher vantage point several of the gamemakers were craning their heads to look at them. From her DNA test we figured out that her brother was at a respectably tall 6' ,standing in the 85th percentile of District 3._

 _Zippina Cayen started her training session by running several laps on the track, instructing the trainer to change the terrain every lap she made. Her time was a respectable minute and 30 seconds per every lap of 200 feet with a standard deviation of only six seconds. She ran about six laps in 9 minutes. She thanked the trainer and went off to a small station on electricity._

 _The circuit was completed in about ten seconds and she plugged it up to the LCD screen. It said that District 3 was the best. I don't agree with that statement, so I'm going to have to dock points from that, but I will admit that the usage of fractals is appealing. With her last 5 minutes she attempted the edible plants station. Zippina Cayen attempted the plant sorting station and received a score of 90%. She bid us farewell_

Now I'm nervous. If Fabian only got a 5 with his aim I worry as to what I am able to get. In years past District 3 tributes have only been able to get an eight, with one tribute in the first 75 years getting a nine. Yet none of our victors scored over a six so that provides hope. I bounce up and down restlessly on the couch as I realize that everyone back home is watching the scores.

"Zippina Cayen, our female from District 3, has earned a four," Hera Iode says. Great… less than half of the scores of the careers. Atom, Forden, Geara, Isaak, mom, and dad all watching. I'm sure they have no hope for me either.

* * *

 _Regan Attwater, 18 years old, District 4 Male_

 _Regan Attwater has been turning heads ever since he was reaped. At the very least I think he's pretty hot. And from what I know, everyone on the gamemaking team has ranked him as the most attractive boy in the games this year. He also stands as the tallest, a boy well developed by the waves of District 4 much like the shores he's undoubtedly treaded upon._

 _Finnick Odair has since established that District 4 males are more attractive than District 2 boys, so it's to little surprise that most District 4 boys are taking advantage of their good looks in order to emulate what Finnick did nearly a century ago. Taking off his shirt, Regan first dove in the water, boasting an impressive time of swimming the 50 meters in 18 seconds. He leaped out of the water without retrieving his shirt, instead moving to the spear station._

 _He boasted his skill proudly, taking care to flex just as he emulated how he'd use the long weapons to vicariously assault four dummies. Then he swapped his spear for a trident, always a District 4 favorite, and called for the best spear fighter. Our spear fighter went down after trying his best for 45 seconds. His final three minutes were spent lifting the unconventional weights, giving us all an opportune moment to oggle his frame._

My hair still hasn't completely dried from my training session but my shirt has. The male eye candy angle has worked to great extents for Districts 1 and 4, being the most attractive districts in Panem, and I'm sure that I had all eyes on me. "Pull the eye candy angle?" Bruce asks.

"Yeah," I say simply. He puts on a forced smile and finishes eating his favorite, lobster, before joining the rest of us at the couch. I look to Kimberly, whose fate rests on getting at least a nine in the career alliance. She's confident but really unsure if she can stand up. I'm sure she'll do fine but I hope I won't be the one to kill her in the Hunger Games.

"Regan Attwater scored an eleven for District 4 this year," Hera Iode says. **11**! That's higher than both of my parents! I hope gramps and gran are proud and hopeful of my future in the games. It's so close too…

* * *

 _Kimberly McAuckswatch, 16 years old, District 4 Female_

 _From what I understand, Kimberly McAuckswatch is the youngest of the traditional careers. Including the semi-careers she is the second youngest, but stands as the second tallest girl with Antoinette and Layla. Corrin has been duly noting her mannerisms, noting how she kind of winces when stripping to bathing suits, and tends to compare herself. Based off of the cameras in the bathroom, he's diagnosed her as having anorexia._

 _If she does have it, she knows how to hide it, because she strode in confidently and grabbed one of the lighter spears. Without so much as another glance, she threw it into the thoracic cavity of one of the dummies. Satisfied, Kimberly giggled and ran to the net making section. It's second nature to District 4 residents and she sculpted a five square foot piece of netting with agility and accuracy._

 _Kimberly then picked up a lighter sword and challenged a fellow female swordmaster to a fight. The swordsmaster stumbled ever so slightly but it was just enough for Kimberly to deploy the net, showing how she could be able to trap tributes. She decided to end her session then and there._

Yes, I'm pretty shocked that Regan managed to earn an 11. He seemed a bit too fun-loving and flirtatious, but I'm really no one to talk when it comes to that matter. I'm sure I'll do fine, but just like several other rescues, I have an uneasy flutter when viewing the situation at hand. I've been dwelling on the near miss of a shark attack when I was 12, narrowly saving three girls who got caught in that swell.

Regan holds out some fried shrimp, a comfort food, and I take a piece of a small shrimp since I do kind of want to save my appetite for a midnight snack if I ever want one. "Kimberly McAuckswatch of District 4 has earned a 9."

It's a pretty good score. My spot in the career alliance is secured, and right now I feel safe. Sure it's no 11 but District 4 hasn't needed an 11. Hopefully I can prove to the others that they don't need to get the best in order to succeed.

* * *

 _Jon Cheris, 14 years old, District 5 Male_

 _I'm do note that the pair from District 5 seem to be close. Jon Cheris, this year's male, seems to be a crafty little bugger. He and Nidawi know each other from back home. The Capitol liaison;s spies from District 5 have been observing his massive friend circle and has noted that he seems to be sociable if a little bit of a smart aleck._

 _He looked up at us with big eyes and smiled, beginning his round with sorting through edible berries and plants. He received a respectable score of 85%. Though District 5 is noted as a factory District like 3, 6, and 8, it has enough open spaces for the teenage hooligans to wander around...pardon my language. Ever since Corrin said that this lunch I haven't been able to let it out of my head._

 _After receiving an 85%, he showed off that he could climb 50 feet in 4 minutes, threw some knives about a quarter of the way to the target. He got frustrated and decided to make some knots to relieve him of his duty. He splashed some water in the pool and left, frustrated_

Nidawi and I sit close to each other as we wait on the couch. The scores have been pretty high, but I think that we'll be on par with Fabian and Zippina. It's hard to believe that our friends are probably at my house, watching the scores be revealed at the same time as us, seeing who we can beat or who will kill us.

I clench Nidawi's hand tightly. I've been turning to her lately because of her comforting presence. I actually regret not talking to her a lot during our time in District 5. She seemed a bit aloof to Alaina but now she seems pretty cool.

"Jon Cheris, this year's male from District 5, has earned himself a 4." Impulsively I clench my hand in a fist. I KNEW the answers to the edible food test...I just Misclicked!

* * *

 _Nidawi Sebille, 17 years old, District 5 Female_

 _The short girl from District 5 came in after her District partner. Nidawi Sebille is a mouthful so I'll refer to her by Sebby. She put her hair into a ponytail, much like most of the other girls, and politely curtseyed to us. If she was from a poor upbringing like the spies noted her as being from, it didn't show as she seemed to be pretty skinny but well fed from the time in the capitol._

 _She daintily skipped over to the track station, setting the terrain to be the one of big rocks and giant hurdles to leap over. She had managed to complete the track in 3 minutes after running 2 laps. Then she went over to the gymnastics station and showed off how high she could leap on the trampolines. Sebby added five flips with the six jumps she accomplished. The meter on the side tracker her height as 14 feet._

 _Sebby finished her last jump and landed flat on her butt, but she got up quickly. She moved over to the shelter station and randomly selected three bags, dumping out the contents. With the fabric of the three bags, she created a trap capable of trapping 4 medium sized animals. Her session ended there. She wasn't happy when we cut her off_

Jon's hand clinches tightly against my hand and I wince. He's gotten a 4. I thought he'd get at least a 5. I hope that my score is able to lift the mood of my friends at home. I know that they'd probably be a little bit disappointed with us.I look at Jon as he seems pretty angry but also distraught. I still have to look out for him but he has to let go of my hand.

Looking at him, I can't help but to think that he would have been a great guy...like Artair. I wonder if he's with Jon's friends or...our friends. I'm sure that Michael is right next to him like usual. Then again, it wouldn't surprise me with what he has going on.

"Nidawi Sebille, this year's District 5 Female, has earned a score of 5." Shit.

* * *

 _Adam Cufole, 17 years old, District 6 Male_

 _The spies in District 6 worked dutifully as to not reap a morphling this year. It's my least favorite District, due to the high population and least amount of actually competent tributes. The boy from District 6 is probably the most competent boy to come from 6 since Phineas. Adam Cufole comes into the room masking some confidence but actually seems to be pretty nice._

 _In my observations he's been something of a low-key tribute, I guess his background kind of warranted to it. He stretches his limbs and asks for a modest training partner. I point to one of the stronger avoxes whose been able to best even some of the trainers and point to him as an opponent. They shake hands before they exchange a decently fast flurry of punches, with Adam prevailing with something of a chipped tooth._

 _Generously we throw down a piece of medicine, which he takes warily, and his tooth grows back. His spunk gives way to another run on the obstacle course, accidentally tearing his shirt and meekly asking for a new one once he finishes. I can see the reluctance in Malaya's eyes as she tosses one down to him. He goes upstairs, and I can't help but want to see a little more of him,_

"That's all you did?" Phineas asks warily. I nod my head tiredly. It's the eightieth time he's asked this question so I'm kind of getting peeved. Mayor Sakon fingers the rim of a bottle of alcohol before knocking it over, leaving an avox to clean up after it. I'm sure that there are more bottles spilled at home.

Janine has been sitting in front of the couch ever since dinner ended and has seen the previous scores go by. Our alliance comes mostly later so I finally make the attempt to join her, sitting on the suede couch as our escort talks on the phone. "Adam Cufole of District 6, has earned a 7."

Janine and Bunny both cheer loudly for me, almost rupturing my eardrums even though they both mean well. A seven is a good number for District 6 but it's not necessary to win considering that Roryd got a 6. I think that an old tribute got a seven too, but his name must not be told in district 6. I wonder if I'll become taboo like Titus.

* * *

 _Janine Midnight, 14 years old, District 6 Female_

 _Adam's District Partner was much shorter than he was, and seemed to introduce herself, Janine Midnight, much faster than Adam was speaking. She seemed to keep an uneasy smile on her face as she walked over to the gymnastics station. Janine was about to jump up to one of the parallel bars when she hesitated, and grabbed a piece of driftwood from the shelter station._

 _She also grabbed a piece of cloth from the outfit station to wrap around her head. She managed to make the jump with the driftwood at her feet before landing perfectly still on the balance beam. I and much of the other gamemakers looked at her as she managed several unique flips with the driftwood before falling down. It took guts and I'm glad she had them._

 _Janine then shows how she can make a shelter, still with the cloth over her head, and quickly sets up an acceptable Lean To. As of now shelters are probably not going to be common in this year's hunger games but she put forth a considerable effort. She spent her last two minutes simply sliding around on the ice, almost as though she's enjoying herself. Which she should be. This is her chance to redeem her District in the best Panemian Pageant. She's got gusto_

I'm clapping loudly for Adam as he pumps his fist in the air. Jakob and Neve are probably watching us so I hope they think that Adam is a pretty strong tribute. I do know him as stronger than he looks, so if he got a 7 he may be putting a target. But the others do know us as not morphlings.

My face shows up as Adam's fades in the distance. I remember my friends and I used to rank our skate tricks on the same scale, so I did the tricks I thought would have gotten me a seven, but I'm not sure if the gamemakers thought the same.

"Janine Midnight, District 6's Female, has earned a 6," Hera Iode says. I look at the screen flabbergasted and begin to smile as Adam good-naturedly pats my shoulders. It's a target, but 6 is a lucky number for a reason, right?

* * *

 _Aster Mallory, 17 years old, District 7 Male_

 _Aster Mallory stands at 6', like most of the lumberjacks, and looks to be of a right muscled build from all of his time in the trees. We don't have as many spies in District 7 but the few shaky cameras in the trees have caught glimpses of Aster in his lumber crew. His introduction was when some of the more inexperienced gamemakers started drinking._

 _If it fazed him he didn't let it show. Aster simply went over to the weight lifting station, showing him lifting an impressive 300 pounds five times before delicately placing the weights back where they came from. He stretched his impressively toned arms before moving to the axes, grabbing two axes for target section._

 _Both of them make their mark about 17 feet away. He and Juniper have both had training, having been students at the academy when they were younger, and the axees thrown is definitely impressive. If a little lacking. No sooner do I think that than I see him defeat a trainer in single combat. He cuts off his session at the 12 minute mark._

"Ready to see the scores?" I ask Juniper. She nods, scratching at a white spot on her arms and joins me as we stand behind the couch, gripping the back of the couch while we watch the sea of faces go past the screen.

"Aster Mallory, District 7's Male, has earned himself an eight," Hera Iode says in the same monotone voice. It's a pretty good score, along the upper ranks of what District 7 usually gets. It's no 11, like Katniss Everdeen, Chaff Remick, or Gerald, or Joshua, but it's a great score.

Juniper looks at me smiling but can't seem to focus on the screen. I point her to the screen just as her score is read.

* * *

 _Juniper Aspens, 17 years old, District 7 Female_

 _Juniper was pretty smiley when she walked in. It was a breath of fresh air but she didn't even take time to introduce herself. I don't know why a girl of her stature would have quit the academy, especially when it seems like that she could have grown a bit taller. And being from District 7 she had been in the vicinity of axes all her life. My daughter likes her hair. It's become a little trend among her and her friends._

 _With an axe at her back, she walked over to the stationary dummies and let loose. She threw out swings at a rapid rate, knocking the dummy down twice and picking it up in quick succession. It was a quick scene of choreography but definitely captivating. Picking a slightly larger ax, she moved to another dummy and began hacking away, slightly slower but still at a decent pace._

 _She then showed that she got 95% on the edible plants test and while doing so created a small trap meant for animals clearly about half a foot long. Her last two minutes before leaving were spent telling us stories about her and her dog in the District. Cute, I'll have to tell Hera about them for interview night tomorrow._

"You did it!" I squeal excitedly. My new friend Aster just got an eight. That's a very high score. I don't think I'm going to get that high but fours seem to be the lowest that we go in District 7. With my luck that's what I'll get.

I'm alerted to Aster and Avril tapping me on my shoulders and turn to the television just in time to see my six move across the screen. I smile lightly. I'm both disappointed and pleased. I have to wonder if it's new fodder for bullying material or more material for my dad to be proud of me.

I kind of wish I got a seven if only due to it being my District number, I miss home.

* * *

 _Jensen Allard, 12 years old, District 8 Male_

 _From the grades of Jensen Allard, he seems to be a bright kid. His mother is borderline useless yet has been under strict watch, and has been slowly improving her way of life. I wonder if Jensen has been holding her back somehow. I wish to perish the thought._

 _Jensen introduces himself politely and says that he is going to test out the slingshot station before trying his hand at running around and doing the track station. District 8 is the craftiest of the semi-careers, so I was really hoping to see what he would have done with the traps. And I got my chance as he hesitated in front of the slingshots, adding on with an apology that he was going to test out the traps._

 _Unfortunately it was little creative. It wasn't the traps of one Shawn Baker of the 69th Hunger Games nor was it anywhere near Beetee's electric wire trap. I had to remark that it was perfectly made. He proceeded to hit 7/10 slingshot pellets on a large circular target and 5/7 shots on a smaller target. He ran around at a decent pace, ending at promptly 15 minutes._

I take a glance up on the article of famous District 8 victors. Shawn Baker of District 8 was among the lowest scoring victors of all time, having scored a 3 during the 69th, yet came out on top after his kill of the District 2 Male. "Are they up yet?" I ask Indigo.

He glances to the television and I look just as Lenora takes a sip of her drink. The district 7 boy is replaced by his partner, who I'm not allied with, and she gets a decent score. Lenora and I both watch the monitor just as my face shows up.

"Jensen Allards, has obtained a score of five." I blank. It's...I don't know what to think. I thought I did everything perfectly but I guess it wasn't good enough.

* * *

 _Lenora Cotton, 16 years old, District 8 Female_

 _Of all career and semi-careers, District 8 is usually the most underwhelming. They get an academy but it's seen by many in the District as a false safety net, causing those actually in the academies to slack off with their training and not quite care about what goes on. With few exceptions, such as Indigo, Velvet, Wendell, and Denim, actual volunteers have been fairly rare in District 8._

 _Lenora Cotton is no exception, a simple factory worker who seems to help out in the factories. She's eschewed the semi-career alliance in favor of a small partnership with Kaney of District 11. I'm not quite sure what drew her to Kaney, considering they're both fairly small tributes but they seem to be a good team._

 _However she showed that she was fairly average with almost everything she tried, only showing promise in the net making station, making an exemplary net that could be used to trap up to two people. Lenora also showed her above average snare, which wrapped around a dummy and decapitated it. Other than that, she scored a little below average on the plants station (which is an improvement from the first time she did it with Kaney) and dove in the water, and stayed there for about 50 seconds. She left dripping wet._

I shake my head as I see Jensen tightly grip on the back of the couch. He really expected to do better than that? I sound pretty mean now that I think of it, but he really wasn't all that. He just seemed to be one to go by the book. I heard several debates between him and the District 9 girl.

Kaney said that it would be best if we shoot for fives or sixes. I think back to Shawn Baker, who won in a healthy combination of making his opponents underestimate him and having the power of surprise. I guess being 6'3.5" in his games helped too.

"Lenora Cotton, our girl from District 8, has earned a 6," the announcer says. Come to think of it, I think it was her voice commenting through the parade route. Still, a 6 was I shot for, and I can't be that sad at getting it. I wonder if Rufus thinks that it's alright.

* * *

 _Samuel Palmer, 18 years old, District 9 Male_

 _Clearly the ringleader of the middle District alliance, Samuel seems to have a natural knack for leadership, no matter how much he denied it. He seems to be a perfectly strong boy and probably a good chance for District 9 if he can get past Naomi._

 _Today he greeted us respectfully but quietly and turned to the wrestling mat, asking for a female trainer to attack him. I was abit confused, but when I saw him take down the female trainer as easily as he did the District 4 male, I saw that he wasn't going to let gender get ahead of him, despite his initial hesitance in setting a hand on her body._

 _He won three out of three matches with the girl and 3 out of three matches with a guy. He moved to a familiar working tool, and showed adequate skill for a district 9 tribute using the scythe. It was evident that he was trained in wrestling. He tried throwing a couple of long ranged weapons, barely hitting the target all the time. Ultimately he put his best foot forward but the rest wasnt good enough._

I'm on the couch with Gerald as Lenora's score fades away. I think that was her name at least. I feel like Naomi would have gotten along well with Lenora, so it's a shame that I didn't have her in the alliance. I don't think I could have gotten along well though. It's a miracle that Atticus was willing to join.

 _Crap Naomi is the only girl_. The thought dawns on me and Gerald senses me tensing up. I wave him off, saying that I'm fine and he relents. "Samuel Palmer," the announcer begins to say. "Has earned a score of 9."

That's...That's a pretty great score! I'm on par with several of the careers! It's a great score! I can only hope that Naomi stands up, but I know our brothers helped her out, so I at least hope that she'll get a five.

* * *

 _Naomi Palmer, 12 years old, District 9 Female_

 _I admit I am biased. The hunger Games is a physical game more than it is an intellectual or strategic game, so at first glance I will say that Naomi has less of a chance of survival than Samuel for a variety of reasons. Smaller frame means less weight so she could get easily knocked over, less ability to aim, you know what I mean._

 _Naomi Palmer walked in like her brother, if a little more enthusiastic and with a bigger smile on her face. She decided to head into the temperature simluation room, standing in the sand barefoot for a while. We had the simulation flood with water- obviously it caught her off guard but she seemed to adapt well, treading water for 30 seconds before the room drained and was replaced with a forest scene. Covering her mouth as the heat increased, she knew how to withstand those temperatures. Not bad for a 12 year old._

 _Then she proceeded to her ace in the hole. With several pellets in hand, she moved over to the slingshots and began climbing up a taller hurdle, aiming for the target several yards away, and hitting the bullseye 4 out of the 7 times she hit it. Then she ran the obstacle course once, finally beating that one obstacle that she got hung up on. Then she left with about a minute and 45 seconds left in her session._

I take a look at Samuel as he rejoices due to his score. Nines are typically the scores semi-careers can get in the training sessions, and I'm proud of him. I messed up on the temperature section but I didn't know that they could have flooded it! I never saw that!

I probably should have gone to the plants, but I hope they know me from the plant station, and maybe they can give me something of a good word. The man who looked like the boss didn't seem to notice much of me.

"Naomi Palmer of District 9 has a score of 7." SEVEN?! Dang, and I thought I messed up

* * *

 _Atticus Landry, 16 years old, District 10 Male_

 _District 10 has always been the District that remains under the radar and this year is no exception. I think highly of Atticus though, it takes some form of guts to leave an alliance that's already set in stone, and being from District 10 he would at least know something about sheep guts._

 _He introduced himself politely, smiling all the way but it looked to be the standard sad smile common on so many tributes trying to act confident. He packed a large pack full of weights and kept it on has he continued to do his training. Of course, if he lifted as many sheep as he claimed then he'd know about that. However, he spent about a minute deciding what he wanted to do first, and hesitation can be fateful in a penultimate battle._

 _He grabbed the Bo staff and began wielding it, showing how he can disarm several dummies with it. Atticus took an oddly non-combative but defensive strategy. It was odd, but District 10 has been weirder. He went to one of the most seldomly used stations and pinpointed where the organs are on a dummy. Then he ended it off. I would have liked to see him run through with his backpack._

"Hey you didn't finish your steak," Veal tells Valonia's mentor.

"I'll get to it later," she says. I see Bingo looking at her with a strange glance before dragging me and Nia's chairs to the general area. Samuel and Naomi's scores have just gone across the screen and my face is now appearing next to the host. I hope I did alright. I cling onto a pillow tightly. Dad never was a fan of me clinging onto my old toys but says it's perfectly fine to feel worried as a family man.

"Atticus Landry of District 10 with a score of 6," the announcer says. Right now that's just...average. I guess I needed to think of a plan.

* * *

 _Valonia Kalene, 12 years old, District 10 Female_

 _Unlike her partner, Valonia Kalene walked in the room obviously nervous, and she seemed to be jittery. She had difficulty getting her nerves down and was continually pushing her hair behind her. She introduced herself but took a minute before deciding o run the obstacle course. Her hesitation in going for the obstacle course ook of 2 of her 15 minutes, which, as you, President Sleet, know, starts once the tribute introduces themself._

 _She ran it adequately, jumping high for a 12 year old girl at 55 inches. She doesn't seem to have much in the way of strength but showed off her running skills quite adequately. Then she went into the temperature control unit, proving that she could remain gripping onto a support even as hurricane force winds ravaged the small box._

 _She stumbled out after a minute in there though, and decided to spend the rest of her time making a small rope trap. It was a pretty basic trap, a trip wire primed to release knives above a head, but when she tried tripping the dummy over it, only one of the knives hit, handle down. The trap wasn't anything else._

I still can't believe that ATticus decided to leave us. I think that our alliance, if we join forces with the others then I think we can handle the careers. Maybe we can have something of an agreement to take out the Careers. I'll have to ask about the alliances soon.

Atticus got a 6 and I thought that he was pretty strong. I guess that the others might be a little bit stronger. My face shows up after his goes away and the announcer takes a moment before reading off my score. "Valonia Kalene, the Female from District 10, has earned a 4,"

Tears immediately begin to well up. I feel Atticus' reassuring hand on my shoulder. I have to get back to Tilden but with that score I feel like I'm dead weight. I have to get back.

* * *

 _Kaney Mayes, 13 years old, District 11 Male_

 _Mayor Fen Mayes of District 11 seems to be not in a coherent train of thought, contending with both a future birth and a possible future death. Some of his political rivals may be up in arms but Kaney remains smiling, not revealing any turmoil even if the news of District 11 are getting to him._

 _That's what he does when he walks in, formally greeting all of us before deciding to run three laps on the ever changing obstacle course. Impressive, but it took 9 of his 15 minutes. I also couldn't help but note that he spent a lot of time with false starts as the obstacle course shifted. While you may know that very little of the arena will change, his false starts may be the precursor to several issues._

 _He spent the rest of his time on the quick test stations, getting 78% on Memory, 95% on plants, and 85% on simple weapon identification. With two minutes left, he decided to try a bit of gymnastics, actually getting up on the high bar before falling down on his butt. Then he smiled and told us to take care of the mess._

"Is something wrong?" I ask. Ember looks at me with a dismissive glare before looking back at the screen. She's probably thinking of her friends, or family, or someone at home. "It's not a lover is it?"

"Kaney, I'm sorry but you could stand to learn when people need to shut up," she says bluntly. "I do need to get back home to my family. Don't get me wrong."

"I do too," I say, trailing off. Donnabella has just whacked Zacharias with a breadstick again before my smiling face appears next to Hera Iode. "A FOUR?!" I shout. Oh no...this can't be good… I begin to feel lightheaded but I have to stand tall. I hope Dad sees me standing tall even if I'm almost hopeless.

* * *

 _Ember Hayfield, 17 years old, District 11 Female_

 _Corrin and Aderion were both observational regarding the District 11 girl. Ember Hayfield is the tallest girl of the year, and probably he physically strongest, but it's definitely going to put on a target on her back. While I'm sure that my colleagues want to do anything to get stuff off her back, I'm much less inclined._

 _Ember Hayfield grunted out her name before going to the weightlifting station, showing how much she could actually lift, consistent with her weight training and about 150% what 18 and 19 year old boys in District 11 are just about required to have. It was impressive. She then moves to the small melee and throwing weapon station, taking a glance over the throwing knives and shurikens. Feeling experimental, I saw her grab a shuriken and try it for fun._

 _She's never touched one of them in her life and somehow it landed in the leg of a dummy. She seemed to be surprised at this, but then moved onto the knives. She threw three of them into a dummy's stomach and a further 2 into the chest. She asked for a trainer but alas, she ran out of time weighing out the types of weapons. Disgruntled, she flipped us off._

"Kaney I'm sorry," I stammer out an apology. He looks absolutely crushed at having a 4, with his _hopefully_ temporary ally having scored a 6. "Sorry for yelling. It'll be fine though."

He looks up with a wistful glance and nods, seemingly not responding. It looks like that his eyes wandered onto the magazine on the coffee table that's detailing Mayor Mayes' beginning of a downward spiral and his attempts at stopping it. "Ember Hayfield, this year's District 11 Female has earned a 7."

Huh. I guess I didn't do that much. Donnabella looks up fondly, rolling up a piece of paper before using it to whack our escort on the head. "A seven was my score too! Don't count the scores before your chickens lay eggs!"

* * *

 _Erudite Soot, 17 years old, District 12 Male_

 _Erudite Soot delayed us the most when starting his training session. We called his name to the escort repeatedly, and when he proved resilient, we had several peacekeepers march with him to the center. He was prodded by the butt of a baton to say his name, which he did._

 _After about three minutes of uncomfortable hesitation he ducked under the arms of peacekeepers, almost making it to the door before several of them strong armed him to the center once again. It looked like something out of a comedy, with Erudite repeatedly running to the door and repeatedly sent back to the center. The room doesn't usually get destroyed without usage of a bomb-and yes, it has happened._

 _When Erudite feinted several of the guards into running into the pool, buying him some time, I saw the spunk in him. I was well content in giving him a two but it was actually hilarious. He left, screeching about "THE FORCEFIELD WILL NOT AWAKEN AND BLOW ME UP!" Very well, his time was up anyways._

"YOU CAN'T MAKE ME!" I shout. I forgot to yell at Ketrin today so I'm filling in my quota for the day. I try to remain locked in the room, but I know that the victors are implanted with keys to unlock any single room they please. He storms into my room, disgruntled, and picks me by the ear.

With his massive strength for a 78 year old man he carries/drags me to the living room, where Naette is already waiting patiently. "I guess we should always keep that one under us," our escort says.

I ignore her. She just talks in order to fill in her empty head with noise that is more pleasing that the cries of tributes. I bet she jerks off to that. "Erudite Soot, this year's District 12 Male, has earned a 4." I begin to think about how good of a score that is when I realize: **HOW THE FUCK DID THEY GET ANY PHOTOS OF ME?!**

* * *

 _Naette Quill, 12 years old, District 12 Female_

 _Compared to her District partner, Naette Quill has not been on many radars. Her alliance with Erudite is fragile at best and unstable at worst. She is the least connected to any of the tributes, much like Lillian Perad, her mentor, is the least noteworthy Quarter Quell victor._

 _She walked into the room with more compliance than Erudite, and even offers to help clean up a bit. From what I know, she cleans at her home. I have to add a point for manners. Then she introduces herself and plays up the cute girl image. I'll be blunt and say that it's not the most favorable image to go upon._

 _She walked over to the ammunition station, picking up some pellets, and carrying them all over to the cloth portion of the camouflage station, and knitted something of a hacky-sack with nothing but string, cloth, the pellets, and well, her teeth. I began to think of what she could have done with the toy when she begins talking at a pace that rivaled Erudite._

 _It was then she made it over to the dummy station, throwing in something of a small apology before swinging the hacky-sack over her head, launching it at a dummy and hitting it at the chest. The issues of recovery soon came into play but she began winding up the string quickly. Then she threw thrice more and managed a lucky shot at the head in between four more body shots._

 _Then, with her back to us, she began telling us the story about how she managed to stop a store-shelf from falling while doing the plant identification, ending the story as she earned 100%. The bid farewell to us._

" **HOW THE FUCK DID THEY GET ANY PHOTOS OF ME?!** " Erudite has been shouting again, when we all turn to him, he recoils. "Oh no. THE MIND READING DRUGS HAVE INFILTRATED YOU! YOU CAN HEAR MY THOUGHTS!" He bolts to the balcony, screeching like...a banshee.

I turn to the television again, seeing my face spiral in. I just now notice that each photo has a different effect. Come to think of it, how _did_ they get a photo of me? Then I look at it and see it's my employee license. Then I see my score, a five, show up.

Huh… I pick at my stuffed toy, kind of pulling apart at the seams a little more. I've had it for years, and I guess I'll die with it. But I thought I'd get a lower score, but it seems like I may live another day yet. Or if the author decides to kill me in the bloodbath-

Erudite has me breaking the fourth wall too. Sorry. NEXT PERSPECTIVE!

* * *

 _Jakob Torser, 16 years old, District 13 Male_

 _The partying seems to have stopped when I read the next name that needs to go up. We're still fairly paranoid, especially with what Erudite did, and he was an idiot. Jakob Torser (love the name might I say) walked into the room with a strong air of confidence, as if he was ready to show what he was worth. I don't think we'll let 13 be a victor this year but I really want to see a fight._

 _AFter introducing himself he walked to the weightlifting station, wisecracking about how his new job actually had skills that translated to the real world. With 10 reps done he decided to run the obstacle course, skillfully adapting to the rising platforms and conquering those damned monkey bars. He looked at us with a shrug before walking to the projectile station._

 _It was there he fumbled slightly, hitting the targets with 3 knives, only with the last handle hitting the target rather than the blade. He cursed. Loudly. He moved to the edible insect station, sorting out with great hesitation the bugs commonly eaten from several spiders. Then he did a bit on memory, getting 100%, and lifted weights again before leaving us._

"The scores are usually advertised as 1-12, but no one has ever gotten a 1 or 12, hell, 11's are the hardest scores to get," Josh says once more. Neve nods politely and I turn to the screen with my hand in a washcloth. I didn't have a plan going in, so going into the edible insects on a whim, when they most likely put spiders-

Not my smartest. Not at all. Too bad there weren't poisons yet, but from what Yana tells us, poisons appeared earliest in the second quarter quell, the year of the first quell victor from District 12. I take a weary breath as I throw another chip into a wastebasket. _Tic-tac-toe three in a row._

My face shows up first next to the announcer. They probably got the live feed going to my parents, I can't imagine how late it may be, but I trust that they put Arthur to bed. It's probably been several restless nights for them. "Jakob Torser, the first District 13 male, has earned an eight."

"Is that good?" I ask Josh. He nods curtly. I feel like he's hiding something, but with the other high scorers, I can't see how bad it can be.

* * *

 _Neve Seren Orion, District 13 Female, 16 years old_

 _The peacekeepers decided to march with Neve into the training center, and she kept time with them. Upon seeing the first District 13 girl, several gamemakers that were noted as habitual drunks at about this time were dutifully seated with their heads raised. She stood at attention, probably kind of peeved at us,_

 _We prompted Neve Seren Orion to do what it is to show us her skills, so she moved over to the combat station, choosing to fight against one male combatant and one female combatant. She proved to be respectful even when she defeated the trainers in one on one combat. Though undoubtedly reticent, she shook both of their hands admirably._

 _It was then she decided to try her hands at the memory station, much like Jakob had done before. After passing that station with 76% on the screen she moved to the stick combat, picking a pair of kendo sticks and using it seemingly like a baton, whirling around and knocking off the heads of several unsuspecting dummies. She bid us farewell like most of the others had done_

That eight is a serious target. Jakob may be smiling but I'm sure the reality will hit. Nonetheless I'll stay with him even if he's singled out. No man left behind...like my parents said. With a deep breath I turn back to the screen. I waited long to get my score, much like I waited long to properly show off my skills.

"Neve Seren Orion, our first female from District 13, has earned a score of 6."

I can't say that I'm sad at what I got, but it was what I was hoping for. Judging from what Josh and Yana have said, it seems to be in the middle of the road. Jakob probably exerted himself, but our alliance seems to be well matched against the rest of the tributes. I just hope it's enough to get home.

* * *

 _I write once more to detrail final developments. After today's disastrous foodfights both in the tribute cafeteria and the eternal victor's lounge, we have recieved requests to draft up the known alliances. What is listed are the only confirmed alliances_

 _Careers: Layla Ranevall, Nikos Marbello, Desmond Pick, Antoinette Quill, Regan Attwater, Kimberly McAuckswatch, Juniper Aspens_

 _Semi-careers: Aster Mallory, Jensen Allard, Naomi Palmer, Samuel Palmer, Atticus Landry_

 _Lucky Beasts: Janine Midnight, Adam Cufole, Jakob Torser, Neve Seren Orion_

 _Flame: Fabian Drason, Valonia Kalene, Ember Hayfield_

 _Phinabella and Plus One: Zippina Cayen, Jon Cheris, Nidawi Sebille_

 _Cotton: Lenora Cotton, Kaney Mayes_

 _Coal: Naette Quill, Erudite Soot_

 _Not detailed are the inner politics, I'll leave that to the president and other viewing audiences to figure out._

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 ****Note to self, divide training chapters into manageable chunks** However, I did make a promise that we'd have one chapter to training, and I did uphold it (though seeing as I composed the previous chapter's author's note on april fool's day I fail to see why I took that advice-WHATEVER! I say that this chapter has all 26 tributes with perspectives. The next chapter will be interview night, featuring all 26 tributes again. Then we'll have a night before chapter with half of the tributes- which half I don't know and I'll probably roll the dice, and a chapter that has the 13 remaining tributes, 4 of which will be detailing their time waking up, 5 of which will be undergoing prep, and the last 4 will have 15 seconds each of the countdown.**

 **Answering these questions in your review will grant the points depicted- not as serious as last time, as it's all opinion**

 **Which training sessions were your favorites? (3 points) Least? (1 point)**

 **Do you think the tributes reacted appropriately to their scores? (3 points)**

 **Who stands the greatest chances now? (2 points) Least? (2 points)**

 **Also just to let you know a bit about myself in regards to disney: My favorite characters are Mulan, Kovu, Phineas Flynn, Nico di Angelo, Nick Wilde and Judy Hopps, Charlotte La Bouff, Georgette, Baymax, and Winnie the Pooh. Any guesses as to which characters will have prominent roles in the arena? Any guesses to some of the arena threats?**

 **Also I feel like I should clarify that in order to lighten some of the moods of my other fanfiction chapters, ACAH, I wrote a fourth wall break in several chapters featuring a district 12 girl, so now it's a minor trait that District 12 citizens have to break the fourth wall. We might not see any more of them, unless you want to see more, so let me know**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	28. Interview Night

_**Interview Night**_

 _Hera Iode, 38 years old, Emcee & Interviewer_

"TripleDent Gum Will make you smile TripleDent Gum It lasts a while TripleDent Gum Will help you, mister To punch bad breath right in the kisser TripleDent Gum! **Now being sold at your favorite Arena theme park!** " That infernal commercial has just finished playing. I'll have to kill the gamemakers who found out about this gum myself or sic my son onto them.

"Mrs. Iode,you are live in one hundred and twenty seconds," my assistant, due to take over in 12 years, reports dutifully at my door.

"I will be out there, thank you Castor." With a smile he scampers off, dragging his frivolous coattail far behind him. On my mirror are the standard questions that I have to ask: what is District X like, what do they think of the capitol compared to District X, is there anything back home to look forward to etc.I put on my wig and walk onto the platform that's due to lift me up.

" **Now announcing your 13 year running lead Emcee,** " Headgamemaker Calirosso says from his booth high above us. " **Hera Iode!** " As usual and just as welcome, I am greeted with a round of applause, and I single out my son and Jupiter from the seats closest to the aisle.

"Thank you Panem and welcome to the esteemed interview night for the sixth quarter quell! Three minutes, 26 voices, one fantabulous show! Let's hear what these 26 have to say, and let's hope that their odds will be in their favors!"

* * *

 _Layla Ranevall, 18 years old, District 1 Female_

"District 1's first and finest volunteer candidate of the girls tonight is rocking a lovely blue vest of only the finest denim material, with her legs smoothly accented by that dark brown earthen tone of her skillfully crafted pair of pants. But don't let her blond locks foll you, she's got a smolder for days. Give it up for Layla Ranevall!"

Back in district 1 they have a mock stage with about the same proportions, the only issue I have is walking around with the glare of lights and sounds of a rambunctious audience, but other than that I make it to the stage unharmed. "It's such an honor to see our dazzling, radiant, and ethereal beauty of a woman looking like a shimmering beauty on stage."

"Thank you Ms. Iode but I do have to ask if you're looking at a mirror rather than talking to me," I giggle. Instant charmer to the capitol crowd, who seems to eat it up.

"Quite a great way of words you have. So tell us Ms. Ranevall, how is the capitol compared to District 1?"

"Ms. Iode, I should tell you that it is in fact a great relief to be in such a great part of Panem. Surrounded by those who don't just see the best or do the best, but dress the best," I add on for good measure. It's a standard interview much like Glisten's night many years ago but the audience is still riled up, now I have to keep them.

When asked about my dress I proclaim it's lovely and when asked about the accomodations I say that it's second to none. I'm also asked if I'm this beautiful in my day to day life, but I respond that I'm just ready for the night.

"Oh dear we're almost out of time and I do wish to ask if you have anything to say about the other tributes?"

"What is there to say besides the fact that we're all dressed our best and ready to look up?" I ask jokingly to applause. "But in all honesty, I can't be more honored to be with such great loyalists, and to the few rebels in District 3, 6, 8, 11, 12, and 13…" I take a deep breath "Let's hope that your end won't be pretty."

After my outburst I find that the audience is slowly regaining their breath after a sustained collective gasp. Then several teenage boys in the audience begin screaming maniacally, which spreads through the crowd like a wave. The buzzer rings before Hera can get a quip in and I walk off stage, trying to flirt. Hopefully I didn't expose myself too much. And I just hope that I'm not too much of a floozy back home.

* * *

 _Nikos Marbello, 18 years old, District 1 Male_

Layla takes off the stage with something of a jaunt in her steps and with a smile to us all. She's seated in one of those chairs programmed to rotate in time with the speaker. She sits in a lime green one. "Now our next tribute has clambered over the massive brawl of 10 other boys for this coveted spot as volunteer, strong and bold, and clad in a dazzling regal purple vest and dark marroon pants, let's hear all you've got for Nikos Marbello!"

Resounding applause, just like from Layla's introduction, comes from the audience and I even hear a few wolf whistles from some of the older women in the audience. "Thank you so much for that warm welcome Ms. Iode. It's truly an honor."

"It's an honor for us too Nikos. And I won't mind if you call me Hera, my husband is a very understanding stud." I laugh uncomfortably at the joke but it seems like it's the correct response from the Capitol audience. "You look like such a smart guy. I heard from the grapevine that you spent a lot of time in the library."

"And that is true," I reply. "Besides the capitol and District 2, I'll wager that we have the best library around. Hey, Cashmere Broach was very prominent with her love of the library and most of our victors cite the library as one of their favorite places in the academy."

"If the library could very well happen to be your favorite place, then who is your favorite victor?"

"Uh….how do I say this without offending Divine?" The Audience roars in laughter and the monitor displays Divine being heckled by several of his peers. "Really though, I'd have to go with the first. Leif Vanas of the third Hunger Games. My best friend Maxon and I spent time together in the library, just reading books."

She pushes me to elaborate on the kind of things I used to do with him. It brings an almost nostalgic sense of emotion to my eyes and I smile fondly. If I do get out of the Hunger Games I'll have to meet with them more often. Hera goes on to ask about my training experiences and I delve into my experiences with the swords and projectile weapons. "Yeah it was all pretty fun. And when fun turned into serious work I had to push myself forward."

"And what was that point?"

"It was my brother's death, killed by a hopeful volunteer years ago. He's my motivation." The buzzer goes off and then I take my seat on a lime green chair. I give a brief smile to Layla who returns it quickly, joining in the applause. I do have a lot to get back to.

* * *

 _Antoinette Vermur, 18 years old, District 2 Female_

"Coming up stage now, clad in a suitable red ascot, grey undershirt, and red ribboned ponytail, is Antoinette Vermur. Our District 2 girl this year is bound to turn some heads for more her strength and beauty. Let's give a warm welcome to our own Magnolia, An Vermur!" That's my cue to take the stage. We don't practice the walk to the stage in District 2 yet today's lessons with Kyrenia and Zelphineas still ring in my head. I smile with a salute to the audience. They take it with a warm welcome.

"Thank you Ms. Iode. I'm fine with you calling me An. It really isn't any problem before you ask."

"So let's start with the beginning. You were reaped as one of five priorities. I could tell that there were some in the audience just jealous of your prosperous position, but do you have any idea why they didn't volunteer?" Hera asks.

It dawns on me that this is the first occurance of a priorty tribute ever since joining the elite Hunger Games team. "Well, in the Academy," I begin to explain. "We want proceedings to go smoothly. The people chosen as priorities are the five most talented in the District. Kyrenia and much of our other victors wish to give everyone a chance if given. And the Games are unpredictable. So if a priority is reaped, no one- not even the priorities can volunteer for them."

"And what's the penalty if that happens?"

"Blacklisted. No one up to two generations and two degrees from the offending volunteer are barred from the academy."

"Sounds rough."

"Tell me about it, my friend, Valda, was this close to getting kicked out. It was a great aunt of hers who volunteered when she wasn't supposed to. She and I haven't been talking lately, but I hope the two of us can still be friends."

"Even if you aren't we'll still be your friends, right guys?" Hera gestures to the audience. They cheer loudly and I flinch, I still haven't gotten used to their volume. The interview goes on. I talk about my time in the orphanage before the residency program at 16, joking about my "evil" matron and the misadventures of me and Quartz.

"There's nothing I wouldn't love more than to prove that matron wrong," I say strongly. The buzzer rings and Hera grabs my hand much like Nikos and Layla before me. I've become a hit with the audience. Now to prove them right.

* * *

 _Desmond Pick, 18 years old, District 2 Male_

Antoinette's applause rings through as I make my way up to the stage. "Let's give it up for first priority and first volunteer, an enchanting gentleman dressed in a flowing light and dark blue suit under a stark red vest, Desmond Pick of District 2." I wave politely to the audience and take Ms. Iode's hand. She giggles before I kiss the back of her palm, like I was always taught. I try my best not to retch from the smell of perfume.

"Like the three before I, it is an honor to be up on the stage. To be graced in the beauty of so many of the capitol's divine elegance is but a dream come true," I say politely.

"Wow, we have quite the smooth talker," Hera dotes. "I don't suppose that you have spent your time in the library as well?"

I put on a smile and adopt a relaxed stance in order to ake myself come off as appealing. "All my knowledge is directly affixed to my father. He and my mother have taught me to speak in a language most appropriate for a regal night like tonight."

An 'aww' of sympathy goes through the audience and I smile at their response. "Do you have any other family at District 2?" Hera simply asks.

"Just me and my sister. She's a promising student. It won't surprise me if you see her up here in a couple of years. I would be remissed if I had not acknowledged the best of the best. My training partners, most notably the second priority Dracorius, have all pushed me to the limit." I'm telling the truth but I was told by Dot that I do come off as ass-kissing, in the words of the common populace.

"It sounds like you have a lot to be proud of," Hera notes after I acknowledge all 9 of the other priorities, not in the least Antoniette.

"Of course I do, including the victors I stand on the shoulders of giants, but I hope to be a giant of inspiration myself with this victory. No quell has been won by the traditional careers, much less a career male, but I'm confident that that would change soon." The buzzer goes off and I walk off the stage as Ms. Iode shouts my name.

* * *

 _Zippina Cayen, 16 years old, District 3 Female_

After Desmond's asskissing session of an interview I fail to see just how I can top him. As I think about that I can picture Atom and/or Watt snickering at that statement...boys… "Her small frame isn't enought to offset her huge energy just bursting at the top, and dressed in bright red with a beautiful azure jacket over her, let's give a warm welcome to this year's District 3 tribute, Zippina Cayen!"

I stumble out to the stage and try to find a balance. Damn these seven inch heels. I make it to the chair but when I wave at Ms. Iode I collapse in the chair. "Well I didn't expect that to happen," I say sheepishly.

"I too had my first fall occur with seven inch heels at your age, don't worry about it," Hera says reassuringly. "You'll get used to it. There are much harder things in life?"

"Like dealing with a teenage boy? I have my brother at home to deal with. Love him dearly but you know, boys."

"Just wait until you become a parent," she giggles. The audience laughs alongs with the two of us and it dawns on me that she speaks with certainty that I'll make it out. I sit up straighter and tell 'embarrassing' stories about my brother and Watt.

"Sounds like you lead a life. What do your parents do for a living?"

"They make ride vehicles for amusement parks," I say quietly.

"They wouldn't happen to be one of the core members of Fun-f8-rides?" I blink, not sure how to answer. "If you do find out let me know, my son is a fan of the amusement park arena that they populated their rides with." They make the arenas into theme parks? What the hell?

It's a bit more talk about life at District 3 and I kin of row quiet. "I'd wager that there's someone home for you?"

"Huh?"

"We at the Capitol do know a thing or two about romance, and we think that there's someone waiting for you back home, no?"

"Well...uh…" I put on a sheepish smile and can't really say more. "Forden if you're watching, I just hope that you feel the same way. I hope that we're still friends when-if I make it out of this." A round of awws sweeps through the audience and I blush slightly. Ms. Iode really has a knack for putting us at ease.

"Unfortunately the buzzer has rung, so we'll have to say goodbye to you for now. If you still need help walking I'll send one of my assistants after you." After a failed attempt to stand up I nod bashfully and cover my face.

* * *

 _Fabian Drason, 16 years old, District 3 Male_

Zippina staggers offstage and I give her a slight wave. I get a smile from her before she collapses in her candy red chair. The audience seems to have quieted down. I wonder if Zippy noticed. "Our next tribute is a quick witted inventive mind, dressed in ripped black jeans and a classic greaser top of a leather jacket and white undershirt. Give up for Fabian Drason of District 3 and his purple accented hair!"

I'm about to run my hand through my hair like I usually do when I stop, remembering what I was told by my stylist, no matter how stiff they dye runs. I walk over to the interview station and sit in front of Ms. Hera Iode. She has a mroe reassuring presence up close. "Hi Hera!" I greet perkily. Was that too formal? "Is my hair really that noticeable? I don't want it to detract from my looks you know."

"Oh nonsense. You remind me of my son, always whimpering about whether his three inch tattoo detracts from his shoes. Don't worry you look fabulous."

"That's why my friends and haters back home call me Fab," I joke. I take a little glance down at the audience as they seem to laugh. Either they're easily pleased or they like me.

I choose to believe in the latter.

I exchange jokes and stories with Hera about District 3. For a woman who's basically writing our eulogies she's genial and respectful. I tell her about my club at District 3, my parents, and my best friend. "Calico I know I'm good at juggling but you have to be careful, especially with him around."

"Oh?" Hera perks up. "And who is this 'him'?"

I can almost feel the lights on my face darken. "I'm not going to give him the satisfaction of being named. He knows what he did. Calico I hate to say it but your'e on your own. I wish you as much luck as you're wishing me."

"Such a devoted friend," Hera trills before the buzzer beeps. "ONE MORE ROUND OF APPLAUSE FOR OUR OWN FABIAN DRASON!"

 _Our Own._ Huh.

* * *

 _Kimberly McAuckswatch, 16 years old, District 4 Female_

Just walk to the stage. I've walked around on a sloshing deck before, this ought to be nothing. Even if the skirt seems a bit wide, my stomach juts out a bit too much, I will rock the stage. "Clad in a flowing grass skirt with a top inspired by a fishook, don't step to close or you'll get too Hooked in with one of District 4's latest, Kimberly McAuckswatch."

I take to the stage with what I assume to be a graceful walk. I do have platform shoes at District 4 but they offer a greater surface area than these fucking heels. I manage to sit down gracefully, smiling as Hera takes a glance at me. "My what a glorious night this it," I say, trying to dissuade the situation. "Couldn't help but notice that you made a pun, Ms. Iode."

"Oh is it that noticeable?"

"Unfortunately." I reach over and grab her hand and cast her a sympathetic glance. "I feel your pain. Living in District 4 means that all the puns are along the lines of 'sea-ing' something."

"Thank goodness I am not alone!" she reacts dramatically. "My sister, husband, and son resort to the lowest of all common humors-especially during this time of the year! Are you surrounded by pun-makers too?"

"Unfortunately. It's like I'm being punished by them." I let out a dramatic scream as I say that accursed word, 'punishment', and the audience screams into hysterics. The two of us compare puns for a little while longer, each citing the worst ones we've heard before the conversation shifts.

"You've said a lot about the bad parts of your family, but surely they must have more positive qualities than...puns."

"Definitely!" I reply excitedly. "My mom and dad are only the most supportive they can ever be. Dad works at a rescue team. We've seen some small schooners capsize beyond repair and mom's usual team is fit for repairs. They work very very hard, and I like to think Lorcus, my brother, and I have managed to inherit such a dutiful trait."

"And your brother, is he close to you?"

"Of course, he and I bicker, especialyl when he and his friends make a mess of our living room and _I_ have to clean it up, or when he pokes fun of too many people and I'm on damage control, but I love him."

"And do you do Damage control rather well?"

"I'm much more fit than I look. I spend a lot of time looking for lost items on the beach and in the water. So yeah, don't count me out even if I do look a bit disproportional."

"If you're disproportional then I'm the president of Rome," Hera says. It's a genuine compliment, and I smile in response. The buzzer goes off and I take my seat right next to the District 3 boy.

* * *

 _Regan Attwater, 18 years old, District 4 Male_

The audience seemed to like Kimberly, and the camera still zooms in on her smiling face while she takes a seat next to the shrimp from District 3. I fix my sleeveless vest so that it shows the center of my torso, as was recommended by my stylist, and lean at the edge of the stage. "Our stunner from District 4 is the tallest tribute of thiis year. 6'3" of well proportioned height and muscles are beautifully teased at with hiss open red vest and khaki sandy pants. Be careful, he'll charm your pants off as he works his way with a signature trident. Let's give a warm welcome to District 4's Regan Attwater!"

A catchy flute melody that usually heralds attractive careers comes up and I hear a lot of high pitched squealing. I see some of them try to throw me some shoes but I'm cast a reassuring glance from Ms. Iode. "Only the best in capitol technology prevents wild fans from coming up." She hearkens back to an old Hunger Games where the District 2 boy was assaulted by a mob of capitolitans.

"Even if it wasn't there I'm fairly sure I could have handled it," I say confidently. The audience begins to scream louder and out of the rocer of my eye I see a legion of teenage fan-girls rush forward only to fall falt on their faces. Funny how the same thing happened with Fabian and Layla.

"Let's start things off easy, with how District 4 was for you."

"Paradise," I say easily. "There's very little that compares to District 4. REally, it's only the capitol that could give a run for money, and even then they're as mismatched as a whale and krill." I laugh along with Hera as I tackle the next couple of questions with almost a relaxed tone.

"Now that we have about half dozen easy questions under our belts, tell us, why do you think you'll win?"

"REally, everyone here can win, but I like to think that I stand out rather well." To emphasize several of my points I sit up straighter, fixing my shirt to reveal a bit more of my chest. "An 11 is a pretty good score, career, semi, or no. So yeah, physically I'm a big threat. I have a lot to fight for, at home, and for my parents."

"I do recall them, I remember rooting for them both when their games ran around. Both honorable competitors."

"To Kyle, to Castelia, to Grandma, Granddad, to Uncle Deluge and his family, to everyone at District 4...I'll try just as damn hard as my parents, don't worry about me." I squeeze the last bit in and gesture to my black ring on my finger. I stand up with a bold stance to the cheers of the audience.

* * *

 _Nidawi Sebille, 17 years old, District 5 Female_

The District 4 boy is always a favorite with the capitol audience. It's almost never the District 5 girl-except for Emmeline but that's because of her daughter. I fix my blue overall and striped shirt combination as I fasten my bow on my head. "Dressed in memoriam of Phineas Flynn is Nidawi Sebille. Her enthusiasm is barely contained, like the character she's dressed as, and her spunk is one hundred and four percent bound to shine through!"

I stand up uneasily, with my blue high heels scraping awkwardly against the stage floor as I hear loud screaming. To my shock, t's the same amount of applause as every other tribute before me- including the Careers. I almost flop on the chair, finding it easy to sink into, and try to put on a smile. "That was pretty hard," I note off-handedly.

"Not used to high heels from home?"

"Oh no," I reply, trying to keep the smile. "No one wears high heels. They just aren't practical for school and working on errands. My friends and I all like to wander around so I just can't picture any of us in this kind of stuff, not in the least Artair or Alaina or Michael!"

"Sounds like you keep those three in high regard"

"Nothing but respect and admiration for the two of them. Artair is a really great guy. He's sort of the ringleader of the dozen of us or so. Alaina is pretty damn great at making sandwiches. The three of us do talk a lot but no offense to Alaina but I'm closer to artair. Alaina knows how to get on my nerves much more often than Artair. Michael, I hope that thing you have with you know whomst is going to phase otu well."

"A lot of freinds back home?"

"I hope so! Otherwise I'll have been hanging out with strangers that I've yelled at for the last four and a half or so years!" The audience breaks out into moderate laughter. "Actually Jon can probably tell you more about our homme life, unless he wants a knuckle sandwich he'll tell you that the two of us get a long."

"We're about half way done with our interview process so let's move on. Anything you want to tell us about your family?"

"Family?"

"Family."

"Other than the fact that my fucking father is a no good ditcher who hitched a ride to nowhere and that my cunt of a mother is an embittered and cold hearted bitch buried in a tomb with nothing to coddle her, nothing much." Ow…. propbably shouldn't have said that. "You are going to bleep that out, right?"

"For the most part," Hera says reassuringly. "It looks like you're fighting for your friends?"

"They are my family at this point. It'll be hard facing Jon in the arena but I know we can push through it," I recover from my outburst and turn to the camera. "Alaina, I'll take care of your little brother. Artair, I'll do my damndest, and to the rest of you: Hans, Veena, Yusef, Delancy, Lindall, Vern, Otis, Bonnel, Michael, and Newtonia, just keep holding on."

The buzzer goes off and I take a seat. I spilled a lot and I can only hope that the audience isn't mixed towards me.

* * *

 _Jon Cheris, 14 years old, District 5 Male_

"Jon Cheris, our District 5 boy this year, has proven that there's more than meets the eye. He may be 14 but he's already wowed so many of the audience with great skills and a charming personality. Rocking a light pink shirt and formal black shorts, he wears his pride upon his tan brown sash. Give it up for our District 5 boy this year!" I walk up to the stage after my introduction, a bit overwhelmed by roar of applause and cheers from the audience.

"Thank you very much Ms. Iode- Is that too formal for this kind of scenario? I've heard you been called that and also Hera and also-can I curse? Would that be bleeped out?"

"I believe we can save it for your victory."

"Wow. I thank you for your confidence, but statistics do show that I'm likely to die." I get a resounding aww of sympathy from the audience before I turn to them in confusion. "It's true though. The statistics say that out of 150 District 5 Males, only five have ever come out. Mullen Jolts, Jumper Dumrang, Alejandro Yustriv, Hellion Darsi, and Jolt Strasius. Literally that's 2.6 repeating percent of District 5 boys ever came out of the arena."

Hera begins to interrupt but I hold up another finger. "Mullen experienced something errible that should not happen again, Jumper did something terrible that should not happen again, Alejandro lost his tongue, Hellion had anger issues, and now Jolt has a desire to finish what he wasn't there for. Even if I do come out, I'm probably not going to be as lucky as Hellion."

"Two point six repeating percent is still a series of odds that are in your favor. Hey, my son is a great mathematician...I don't agree with his title of the 'Mathmagician' but that's beside the point. He calculated that everyone has a 3.85% chance of survival this Hunger Games. Don't you worry. Do you want to tell us about your home life?"

"Yeah sure!" The audience seems to become more animated and I begin to blab. "My dad is pretty strict and my sister and brother and I have to fight for virtually every meet up that we have with our friends. Mom is very imaginative, she always tells us these stories. She's a housewife loud and proud and so has a lot of time to make these. Alaina and Hans are very core members of my friends. Hans is clumsy and Alaina is my family member that I'm closest to."

"Have any of these stories for us dear?"

"Good thing Nidawi didn't spill some of my 'embarrassing' stories because taht's my job," I joke. "She and the rest of us were walking along a small District 5 creek when Artair pushed me in. I started flailing and screaming. I couldn't hear their advice. Of course, I stood up, and I was about a head taller than the creek. I'm really going to miss them. Yusef, I know you're still struggling with yourself but no one cares about that. Look at Hellion. Alaina, Artair, Hans, all of you, I'm going to miss you."

"So who is your best friend, and daresay, who are you going to miss the most?"

"Really….I don't think I can answer that," I lament. "Yusef and I were supposed to help each other find our first kisses but that's not going to turn out well. Ideally I would have loved to gotten one from a girl like Nidawi or her." The buzzer goes off and a chorus of awws sweeps through the audience. I run down to the chair bashfully as Nidawi puts a concerned glance as she holds my shoulder. I look at her with a smile that she returns.

* * *

 _Janine Midnight, 14 years old, District 6 Female_

 _Just don't ramble on and you'll be fine._ Bits and pieces of Kindred's advice fly in and out of my thoughts, almost distracting me from my own announcement. "Her hair is dyed a perfect red sheen for today, kept long and flowing but slick with great grease. She's got a sly deportment about her and enough energy to match a rabid-or savage fox. Let's give it up for Janine Midnight!"

 _Step one, two, one, two, breathe,_ I think just as I sit down in a chair opposite Hera. There's as much applause for me as everyone else, so I'm fairly reassured. "Is it hard walking around in high heels? I don't find much use for them."

"It's good if you ever want to have an improvised weapon," Hera notes. "For the 99th Hunger Games Victor Pristine Nixa managed her most iconic kill by wrestling a high heel from the grapss of the District 7 girl and stabbing her in the eye with it. Don't count on that being in the arena."

"I sure hope not!" I grab at my chest as the audience begins to laugh.

"Any friends, family, love back home?"

"I'm really not sure if I should say this, but when else will I?" I contemplate what to tell the audience of my dad before I open my mouth. I snap out of my thoughts with a sad smile on my face. "Dad's just really really supportive. He's known in the capitol for his series of hoverboards that project a screen at your feet. Buy them, every time the factory is commissioned to make more then we get to have an extra slice of steak for the week."

The audience laughs in approval. "Your father is an upstanding guy from what I know of, how about a Mrs. Midnight?"

"I…." I trail off and curl my lip. "My dad said that it was an infection that killed her. District 6 has a lot of contamination, and the hospitals aren't….the best at keeping them out. I hardly knew her though, I was only fifteen minutes old."

Hera makes a reassuring gesture and holds her hand close to her chest. "Sorry to hear about that Janine, but I can tell that you don't let that get to you. Our sources back in District 6 say you're one to live vicariously."

"You-you have sources in District 6?"

"That's not important honey, but you seem to have some of that vicarious living here. Is there anything you want to say about your day to day life?"

I blink back the weirdness- if that's possible-before gulping loudly and taking a deep breath. "I like romping through the District, though I'm fairly sure that people think that me and my friends are hooligans. Being the only girl means that I have a lot of flirts to deflect. It gets annoying. But the guys are all cool. I'd just love to spend a fair chunk of time of my life, running through District 6, not living complicatedly. You hear that guys? I want to do that if I get home. That goes to you, Holos, Jet, Timmie, Hestair, Ishmael, Nardo, Uly, Tripor, Turbo, Rohn, Gourdel, Robing, and Yves! I want it to be just like always."

The buzzer goes off and I receive another round of applause. "Thank you Ms. Janine Midnight!" I take a seat in a teal colored chair as I wait for Adam to go on stage.

* * *

 _Adam Cufole, 17 years old, District 6 Male_

I'm not too sure with the get up that the stylists put me in. I am fairly sure that people like Garry don't wear stuff as formal as this. Probably more, probably less, definitely not to this extent. "One of several scrappy contenders, Adam Cufole comes straight out of District 6 in a dark vest and light blue shirt combo, complimenting his dark navy pants, all too evocative of our favorite bunny cop. Let's give it up for Mr. Adam Cufole!"

I run a hand through my hair as I push it forward, taking note of the loud audience beneath our feet. I don't plan to talk a lot, and Mayor Sakon seemed to be all for it. I give a respectful nod to the interviewer and sit on the stage. "Adam, dear boy, is there anythign that's caught your eye about the capitol?"

"Besides the bedazzling colors and dynamic personalities? Nothing in particular." The audience still seems to be gripped but I know that we tend to lose them here. "Can't say too much about this dye though. Better drug than morphling back home if I must say."

"Ah yes, you do look lovely in that grey sheen- you may in fact be popular with the ladies!" I hear a lot of screams from an older portion of the audience and recoil in shock, eyes going wide as they slowly calm down. "So does our Silver Fox have a fair bit of friends back home? Or some family? And if those questions are too hard for you can you tell us quite about your job."

"Well that sounds pretty good about now," I say quietly. "Is it wrong that I consider this some kind of vacation from all those junkies? I don't think that working as a bouncer is really that interesting here."

"Oh nonsense! We all think that's very interesting. You must meet all sorts of people!"

"No one interesting. Well, almost no one interesting. There's this slacker who I consider one of my friends, Garry," I say with a slight scoff. "He's cool. He's a good friend, don't think he thinks much of me besides being another prick to annoy, but he's cool. I like him." I tilt my head slightly at the statement and the audience seems to like it."

"Is there anyway you want to tell us about your family?"

"Well it was my brother that got me the job at the nightclub. I know I probably don't look like much, but I am a bouncer. My dad does some small catering shit or some other deal around our apartment complex. Haven't had much of his food myself but My brother and I like it. Home isn't much to us but it is what it is," I say with a light shrug.

"Is it just you guys at home?"

"Well my deadbeat witch of a mother left three years ago, and I haven't seen her since then. Not that much of a tragic past if you ask me."

"Either way you seem like such a strong man coming from District 6, and it's been an honor talking with you here." The buzzer goes off as soon as she says those words and I walk off the stage, slumping next to Janine silently. She gives me a pat on the back and a slight trace of a smile.

* * *

 _Juniper Aspens, 17 years old, District 7 Female_

I push back one of my white skunk stripes as I look nervously down the stage. It's my turn soon and I have to wait for my roll call to finish. "Juniper Aspens is a marvelous dreamer. Always with an active imagination, she's sure to think of solutions to problems in a pinch. She looks great her in her darling messenger bag and dark blue clothing. Let's give it everything we have for our District 7 girl."

Wow….the girl she's describing sounds marvelous and loved by the audience. I can't wait to see her up on stage. "Juniper," I hear Aster prod. "You're up." A bit confused I walk on the stage with a bit of skip in my step. I'm shocked again by the loudness of the cherring and stumble hastily over to the chair.

"Took a while didn't you Juniper?"

"Took longer than a turtle with an over-sized shell climbing up a hill? I think so. It's just kind of different standing up here. I saw so many girls as tall as conifers stand up here and so many boys as big as statues. I can't believe I'm one of many to stand on the stage."

Hera is about to speak but I just keep on rambling. "And the colors. They all seem so much brithre than at District 7. We have so many pretty colors in District 7 but they're more like a pastel, something like a painter's palette but here it's like a whole lot of electricity."

"Such a vivid description! You must be popular at home."

I blank, looking into the audience. "Actually, not really. My best friend is Lily and I love her very much, but I have to remind myself she's a dog. She listens to me like an open cliff facing roaring waves but that's all she is at times, a dog."

"Well that's sad, but surely you must have others at District 7 you care about deeply, do you not?"

"My mom. And my dad. They both work pretty hard but I know they love me. My dad thinks that I can make it home and so does my mom. They're the king and queen of the house. My dad is hilarious and my mom is dutiful. In the stories I always like dreaming of they're the fiar rulers of a dutiful kingdom."

"Any of these stories that you would like to tell us now?"

"Not quite, they usually take a long time. I uhh, don't know what else to say."

"Make it home and you'll be the top of the town and you'll be sure to impress!" The buzzer goes off and I stand up, holding my hand proudly like I saw some victors doing in the years past. I hope I can make it out like them.

* * *

 _Aster Mallory, 17 years old, District 7 Male_

I probably won't say much by the time I get on stage. I don't plan to, nor do I have anything else that I'd like to say. Merrion told me it wouldn't hurt to butter up my allies so if all else fails I'll rely on that but it isn't like anyone would be listening...though Hera has been able to get many of us talking long. "His earthen and modest tuxedo shines through as a highly regarded spirit of the unending frontier. It's only fitting that our strong and sturdy District 7 Male happens to be Aster Mallory! Let's give everything we've got for our methodical artist!"

The cheering that precedes my march to the stage is able to match much of the previous tributes. I look down at the row of colored seats where the already interviewed tributes rest. Hera's clothes this year seem to tie in the fact that this year is to represent all Districts, with no one of the 13 colors accenting her dress taking center stage.

"I see that you're just taking this night in dear boy," Hera says quietly.

"Not like I'll ever see another night like this again will I?" I say sadly. I make an impulsive tap on my left breast pocket to make sure that the pencil is still there.

"It's definitely a lot to take in, but you now what I prefer to think of this stage as?" Hera asks. "Something like a rocket pad, where great members of society have such upstanding starts including Mrs. Corrina Sleet."

"She was on this stage?"

"As an interviewer like myself."

"That explains why she's described as being so much nicer than the previous presidents. Was she the first female president?"

"Oh no, she wasn't, but we aren't here to talk about politics are we audience?" A roar of 'no's' roars through and causes a bit of a crack in the protective shield. "I just have to ask, what is District 7 life like for you at home?"

"Wake up, chop wood, haul wood, grow trees, shout in as loud a voice as possible, go home to some kind of salted meat," I say simply. Hera puts on a mask of interested ness but I can tell that I'm probably boring her.

"Any friends back home?"

"Davey but he hardly counts. He annoys me and I annoy him but we're the two youngest bushes on a team of redwoods so we talk. He's actually pretty nice," I say with a slight smile.

"How sweet. I take it you don't think you have much of a family life?"

"Unlike District 6, I don't have a father. I lost him in an accident. I still have my mom and... well if I had the chance to make things up for her then I would. We're not all that we have left for each other but she's a big part of my life, bigger than I cared to admit."

"And it's the goal of a son to make it back for his mom, isn't it?"

"I suppose," I say quietly. The buzzer goes off and I take a stand, hearing my name called out in a roar of cheers. Part of me wonders if it's just an illusion, but the cheers seem to be pretty driving, and well, Hera wasn't that bad.

* * *

 _Lenora Cotton, 16 years old, District 8 Female_

I almost certainly know that I can't hold up to the previous seven Districts, but I have to try. I was talkign with Antoinette in the elevator who just told me the most important thing to do was breathe. I just want to be back home in the factory, working away, looking at hot guys through the windows. "District 8 this year is a hidden threat, much like it always has been, and our little spunk of a girl is just as lethal in hip alley clothing as she is regal in smooth town operations. Lenora Cotton everyone!"

The sound of the crowd almost deafens me while I look behind me to Jensen's nervous smile. Without looking I trip over the stairs that descend to the main stage area. I regain my balance just before I have to fall down in the poofy chair. "Sometimes I think the stylists forget that just because we make the bases for the high heels we don't wear them!" I cry in frustration.

"Taht's an all too common reaction tonight Ms. Cotton," Mrs. Iode says sadly. "If you aren't used to wearing high heels then what are you wearing at District 8?"

"Hand me downs," I say autoatically.

"From your mother or an older sibling?"

"Older brother. Those pants have no room for the booty! I think guys use the term 'wedgie'?"

"You can always ask my son if you ever do come out of the arena. So how is your family life. We know you have a brother so let's start with him."

Scarily enough I actually have to think about it. "I assume he got my father's genes- wherever in the world of District 8 he is. He's ridiculously tall. It's always the guys in District 8 that are so tall. He's 6' 4.5"! That'ss the second most notable thing. He's got an almost annoying smile that lights up the room, so taht's what people tend to notice."

"And have people noticed you guys?"

"Not me and mom, no. I like it that way," I say with a smile. "My brother is straight but it doesn't stop some guys from crushing on him. And it's a shame, some of the guys that are crushing on him are really hot. Mom and I are just belt transferers and belt cleaners. So I think I'm pretty strong."

"Do you think you have any other strengths that would help in this arena?"

"I know how to sniff a chemical without my nose flaring up, but I don't know how much that can help." I begin to think about the previous victors from District 8. "Uhh, Delly won with a trap, Woof managed to navigate the maze of the underground, Weaven managed to inject hydrochloric acid as her most notable trap, Cecelia had the needle, Shawn won on a 3, Niccety proved that District 8 could be a viable career District, Denim showed that guys could do it too, Wendell became the first disabled victor, Velvet became known as the torturer, and Indigo is a heartthrob. They all had strengths that were unconventional. If they did it then me and Jensen stand at least a smidgen of a chance."

The buzzer goes off and I stumble off of the stage. I just try to sit with a smile on my face, but I'm just really really really tired.

* * *

 _Jensen Allard, 12 years old, District 8 Male_

 _Refer to the interviewer as Mrs. Hera Iode. Smile brightly. Talk if you must but just keep the audience hooked. How to keep the audience hooked? Talk but don't lecture._ "Our only male 12 year old of this year looks right at home in a fluffy boa and baby blue tuxedo. He looks very much mature in his dark maroon suede shoes and clearly has it all made out. Let's give a warm round of applause for Jensen Allard!"

I walk onto the stage trying to look composed and give something of a warm smile. The audience seems to be liking it judging by their raucous cheers. I don't flop on the seat like several others have done and sit on it daintily. "Thank you for a great introduction Mrs. Hera Iode," I try to say naturally, but I think my voice quavers a little.

"Why thank you for your formalities, but this is supposed to be a comfortable place," she says. "Feel free to call me whatever it is that seems fine for you. I've heard it all, Madame, Princess, Queen, Bitch, Witch, Cocksucking Headchopper- and I jsut have to take it with stride."

"C-Cocksucking Headchopper?" I ask.

"If you'd like to callme that then it's very much fine don't worry."

"That's not proper at all! I live in an apartment building with this guy who shouts to some women and I don't think even he calls women that. You deserve something more fitting, like Miss interviewer. I'm not really creative but in the books we read in school that's a name of a little Panemian superhero."

"Am I ever glad to hear that in District 8 you are so dutifulyl involved in your education."

"A lot of kids at my school want to go to the academy. I get teased for not wanting to go but my mom thinks my dad is over there. Soo….she doesn't want me to see him."

"And is your father a trainer?"

"I never met him," I say sternly. "I don't want to and I don't want to take that risk. He ruined my mom and so I don't think I'd like him home either way. I have seen too many guys in the District that could be him."

"I trust that you don't have the safest home life?"

"No," I say sadly. "I'm sorry but it's not much to uhh...I know you hate puns so I won't say 'to call home' but I will just say that home isn't nice. Mom and I share a 1 bedroom apartment but we sleep in shifts. Mom and I get the house for 12 hours of the day and a family of three gets the house for 12 hours a day."

"It sounds rough."

"It is and that's why my mom wants me to educate myself. I don't invite my friends, or acquaintances, Hector and Jasinta over. That and I'm not very popular so they don't really ask."

"The Hunger Games changes a lot of things so I'm sure that if you make it out life will change for the better." The buzzer goes off and I take to the seat with something of a heavy heart. I hear loud cheers but I cant even be sure if they're genuine.

* * *

 _Naomi Palmer, 12 years old, District 9 Female_

"Our spunk of a 12 year old from District 9 has shown many great skills. A prodigy back in her home District of 9, she looks quite cute in her flannel and overall combination and holds the stage with such a cute grin. Give it up for Naomi Palmer!" I take a glance back at SAmuel as he pushes me forward ever so slightly to the stage. I take a gingerly placed step forward into the bright lights and make my way to the seat. "So how are you Naomi, you look positively bewildered."

"Yes I am," I say quietly. "So many colors and sounds. How do you concentrate."

"When you've been interviewing as long as I have you get used to it, but Naomi, I'm supposed to be the one asking the question," Hera jokes. "Though I'll save some of the home quesetions for your brother. What do you do in your free time in District 9?"

"Samuel and I go to the academy. Sometimes i spend the nights over there but most other times I go to a tree house that's on shared property."

"A tree house? Might I ask how that came about in such a flat District?"

"My other brother Sidney had some extra wood from his work. Dad told me, Samuel, my other brother Chase, and Sidney to get rid of it. While we were going to burn it Chase's girlfriend's sister at the time showed us a tree that could use the wood. It was on the part of the property that the six families have to share so my friends and I could play on it."

"Did you have a lot of fun in that tree house?"

"Yeah, I could run over there in less than three minutes and we had that for four years. We have a small electric stove up there, some pillows, and a small cooler that we found from the river."

"You said you have friends coming over? Any way you want to tell us about them?"

"Uhh, yeah," I say quietly. "My friend Jgen is really really rich and older and so much smarter. We like hanging out with each other but lately I haven't seen her as much. Lillia and I met at the academy on one of the demonstration days. She was 8 and I was 7. She was nervous but wanted to become a volunteer for a future games. I want to help her."

"Make it home and that will be possible. Sounds like you have a lot of folks to fight for."

"I do. Mom, Jgen, Lillia, Chase, Sidney, and Samuel." As tears begin to form the buzzer goes off and I rush off the stage. I hold my hands to my eyes as I listen to Samuel's introduction. It can only be one of us.

* * *

 _Samuel Palmer, 18 years old, District 9 Male_

I look on with concern as Naomi rushes off stage. She hasn't cried lately but I guess Hera kind of drove her to the edge. I can't lie by saying that I'm not fighting for me but Naomi isn't taking this well. Gerald says I can't kick myself in the pants becuase I decided to volunteer this year. "Ahem. This year we may have only had one volunteer from the dynamic middle districts but is he a studly stunner! Clad in a light blue top and dark black pants with little candy colored accents, it's Samuel Palmer!"

I run my hand through my hair and walk forward. There's no time to practice this but I like to think that I nail the walk up to the interview area on the stage. Hera greets me with a warm smile and I try my best to sit up straight. "The cheers are something new. I like it," I try to say humbly.

"You get used to it being in a high position of Panem," Hera says. "Now we have several elephants to discuss. You started out this Hunger Games as a strong volunteer from District 9."

"Yeah I did," I add. "I was training since I was about...12 or 13 I think. I hate braagging but uhh, I'm one of five guys with an over 80% wrestling win rate."

"And I'm sure you showed off your strength in the private sessions, scoring an impressive nine!"

A round of cheers builds up in the audience before dying down. "It's othig special, Gerald did get an 11 and there were other outliers who got an 11 in games past. I'm glad I did fairly strong though."

"I'm sure that your family is quite proud of you. Right Naomi?" She glances down to Naomi who puts on a sad smile and gives a weak set of claps.

"I hope my mom is. She's a medical doctor who is well liked in our commuity. Chase and Sidney are my two strong older brothers, of whom I enjoy their company. Naomi and I are tight, but six years apart age wise means we don't get to interact often." I can feel my voice grow cold as I dwell on my father. "I used to like hanging out with dad but me going to the academy seems to have struck a chord. He is't the same."

Hera gives me a sympathetic glance as she wrings her hands. "Is there anyway you want to-" I shake my head and she changes the subject. "A good looking guy like you must have a fair bit of friends back home, right?"

"Well I don't know if three is a fair bit but honestly they're all I need. Jamie is kind of a rich bastard, Emal is the physically toughest, and Michael is smart. They help keep me centered when it comes down to it," I say kindly. I continue to talk about our excursions and it seems to put me at ease.

"So one last question," Hera prods. "How do you think you and Naomi will fare?"

I gulp uneasily and take a glance at Naomi as she kind of shivers. "I can only hope for something my dad called a Miracle. Siblings do well in the arena but...only one can come out, and I hope that it's Naomi more than anyone."

The buzzer goes off and I try my best to stand up confidently. I can hear several fangirls in the audience squeal, alongside some guys. I walk down to the row for tributes as I give a smiling glance to Aster and Regan.

* * *

 _Valonia Kalene, 12 years old, District 10 Female_

I get nervous because the boy who just went seems to have a fair bit of support. District 10 isn't a liked District in the Capitol. We had a lunatic who drank blood one year, and two siblings who loved each other, to say nothing of the vegans. "Valonia Kalene is the epitome of cute this year! With a whole lot of energy she'll show enough energy to win over the audience. With her bold outgoing life she's sure to put up a great fight to come out of the Hunger games!"

I step out on stage to a lot of applause and begin to smile brightly. The audience seems to cheer even louder as I sit down, fixing my blue styled hair. "This place is big," are the first words to come out of my mouth.

"The world is a big beautiful place. Do you see sights like this in District 10?"

"Oh no! There are places that are described as photogenic but it doesn't seem to be as charged as what I've seen in the capitol! I really hope to see it all one day, or at least one day in another life."

"I too would enjoy going to the humble ranch town that is District 10 at least once. Are there any good sights that you think I should see?"

"Hmm…" I put my hand on my chin and begin to think before a lightbulb goes off in my head. "My friends- the prime sisters, Austin Bronze, and Nadira all took me to this tributary off one of the major rivers. We found a chest with a lot of money! We had to give it to the peacekeepers though. They gave us food in exchange and we had a picnic!"

"Sounds like you have a lot of fun with your friends in District 10. Anything that you'd be willing to tell us about your family?"

"I guess. I have one older sibling. Tilden and I have to pull the weight in our house a lot. He's 14 but we have to help out with our siblings becuase Mom's work takes a lot out of her. My younger siblings are Percy, Fleur, Acantha, Mardon, Caspian, and Denica. They all need help in their own ways so I hope that Tilden can manage them. I...I miss them and mom."

"It's all the further to fight for them. I've seen a lot of love in the arena and more often than not it helps the future victor. I didn't pick up on your father, do you mind me prying?"

I take an uneasy gulp and look at the soles of my fuzzy blue slippers. Hera also has a pair of dark green slippers that look like a vine. I look up and try my best to push the tears out of my eyes. "My dad had to look in a barn in order to calm down a raging rabid bull. The door closed behind him and uhh…. He was gored into the ground. I liked playing dice with him and eating some of the fried skin that he made with his friends. I haven't seen them lately. I miss dad but he did get kidn of angry so I'm not sure what I feel about him."

"It's okay dear, a lot of people have a complex life." The buzzer goes off and I wipe my tears and put on a big smile for the people as I take the steps down next to the taller boy from District 9.

* * *

 _Atticus Landry, 16 years old, District 10 Male_

I think I can handle this. I've handled crowds of bleating sheep and bucking broncos...but my dad was with me...and so were Jordan and Mercer. I can't handle this. "From the humble ranchlands of District 10, Atticus Landry stands as broad as an ox and absolutely marvelous in his red accented clothes. He may be sweet but he sure is strong and let's give it all up for him!"

I assume that it was our escort, Liev, who wrote that description. He tends to ramble on without a point. Hastily I smoothen out my shirt and try to step out confidently into the spotlight that's supposed to guide me into the chair. The sound of the crowd doesn't defean me as the others have been deafened yet it's still loud enough. I smile kindly to Hera just as I take a seat. "This is a really comfy chair."

"Only the comfiest for our treasured tributes," Hera adds. "So I don't suppose you know what it's made of?"

"I've felt so many sheep in my years in District 10 and I know what their wool feels like. I feel something more though, it seems like it's air and feathers. What I wouldn't give to give these to my friends back at District 10."

"And are you popular back in District 10?"

"I mean around my ranch sure I am. I hang out most often with my cousins, who are my friends mind you," I clarify. "Jordan and I are on good terms but he's been off with his girlfriend more often. So has Mercer. Erin and I are pretty tight knit. I like her. She always knows hat to say when a sheep gets lost."

"Have you lost many sheep?"

"Too many. My dad never lost sheep when he was my age and I lose about 2 in as many months. God I feel useless when I think about it. More often than not the sheep go to the same place. To the river near the grasslands. They really should be monitored. I'd like to have fences but that would have to come out of my own pocket."

"Sounds like you're experienced with sheep. Do you have any other pets that you know how to look out for?"

"I love my horse. You can't be anyone in District 10 without a horse. Strider was mine since I was 12 and he's growing up to be a great stallion. My cousins have been starting to raise chickens and if you ask me they're too much work. I slept over with Mercer because I stayed too late one day and that rooster woke me up. If you're hearing this Mercer, if I come back, I want a fried chicken dinner!"

The audience laughs heartily and gives me a preemptive round of applause. "A crowded life in District 10 isn't it? Tell us about your more immediate family."

"We're uhh, we're not much really. In District 10 several families have to work on one ranch for one product. Mom and Dad are protective of me, Lars, Phobe, Angelo, and Richmond. Richmond is really mature for his age and he'll tell you that he's not interested in dating. Angelo…. Who knows what happened to him. He was a great older brother but he needed his privacy and we gave it to him until he told us he was vegetarian."

"And is being vegan-"

"Bad? Heck yes. Meat is the way of life in District 10 and if you can't eat it you're better off dying. At least according to my dad. Lars and Phoebe both live their own lives for the most part. Lars is well experienced in bullfighting and Phoebe in lassoing. Mom takes care of all of us and my dad…" I trail off, lookign just past Hera. "My dad is my hero. That's all I can say. I know I'll never be half the man he is but I really hope that I'm good enough of a son for him."

The buzzer goes off and I clamp a fist to my chest as I stand up, blinking back tears. I know I cry but I try not to this time around.

* * *

 _Ember Hayfield, 17 years old, District 11 Female_

The interviews have been the hardest part of arriving in the capitol so far. Hearing that all of these people are just as similar as me really isn't doing me any favors. "Our amazonian princess is now rocking out a lion inspired outfit in order to surely attract a sizable fanbase. She's got enough spunk to power a steam train carrying a million and a half metric f*** tons of food, it;s Ember Hayfield, our District 11 Female!"

I take to the stage as stoically as I can. The audience really doesn't matter much to me but they seem to like what I bring to the table very very much. Maybe it was the cursing in Hera's statement I don't know. Without much of a flourish I take a seat in front of Hera Iode and just sit there, doing nothing. "Welcome to the Capitol Ember."

"I've been in the capitol for several days now. It's a nice place but I'd rather go home," I say gruffly.

She uncomfortably chuckles and tries to ask me questions. "We get a lot of stoic tributes from District 11 but we have experienced some great responses from great tributes. So tell us Ember, who do you have in your family life?"

I take a long time to process the question. I know my brother wants me to be the villain but I can't help answering a simple question, however briefly. "Me, my brother Milo, my brother Cane, my brother Thorn, my mom and my dad, and my sister in law. It's not much."

The audience doesn't seem to be all that happy when it comes to my response btu they all give me a round of applause. "Oh, well. Let's hear about your friends! A girl as stunning as you surely mmust have some friends in District 11."

"Some," I reply curtly. "Just Durian, Pearan, and Silco."

The audience begins to murmur. I guess it's sending them all in a tizzy. Hera sighs again and tries to ask me about my dating life. I try my best not to reveal too much, just sit there in thoughtful silence. I guess I won't be making many fans but I sure as hell don't think that the capitol floozy is worth my time. With a sigh I cross my arms and kind of fade into my thoughts, carelessly answering questions about my brother's dating life as he's seen by several in the capitol as a stud, my own dating life, what I do for work, and how I became friends with the three of them.

The buzzer goes off and though I have a lot of applause I can only assume that it's from many in the audience being glad that my interview is very much done with.

* * *

 _Kaney Mayes, 13 years old, District 11 Male_

Wow. Ember was pretty quiet. I donn't think that she was liked well in the eyes of the audience. I'm starting to be glad that I'm not allied with her. I think some poor kids have her as an ally. "Coming on up is the mayor's kid, but he's sure to make a name for himself in the arena. He's got energy and a bright smile so better get your sunglasses on for dear Kaney Mayes of District 11!"

I get up and almost rush to the stage, tripping over the chair leg and flopping on the chari with an audible pwoosh. The audience begins to giggle and I try to sit up straighter. "I guess I have to say this. Mrs. Iode, my dad and mom are really big fans of you in District 11. They love the way you handle the news."

"Well I'm flattered but the news truly isn't a profession that I look forward to doing. I quite love being up on the stage."

"And I can understand. Having a bunch of people below your feet as they cheer for you is bound to be a great thing. I actually haven't been on a stage until the reaping. It's always interested me how the stages seem to come after only what? One hour of construction?"

"This stage has been perfected for a long time. But enough about that. Your father is a very important man in the District. How has that affected you?"

"My dad thinks the capitol does no harm. I don't know why but my friends think that the Capitol can do harm. I got a lot of toys yeah but I also met a lot of people. I was able to meet my friends in a great way." The audience seems to be easing up and I think I'm doing well. I talk about what I've learned from my tutors who all think the capitol is doing decently enough.

"Sounds like you think highly of the capitol."

"I'm not alone. My dad is pretty loyalist and people don't like him for that aspect but I know he can do things a whole lot better. I just really want to make it home though," I add the last sentence somewhat dejectedly.

"Why is that?"

"Mom said that I have to be a good older brother. I can't really...really do that if I'm dead. I really want to grow up to have a brother or sister in law that I originally threatened even with the 13 or so year age gap. I'd love to share with them my favorite book series."

"Well that's very sweet. I'll tell you right now that you and 25 others are tied as my favorite tribute for the 150th Hunger Games. Is there anythign you want to tell us about your friends?"

"Yeah! We go around in the District. They don't quite like the capitol but I think they'll like them better." The conversation continues and the buzzer goes off just as I'm complimenting Hera on her dress. It isn't until I get to the seat when I register what she meant by her favorite tribute.

* * *

 _Naette Quill, 12 years old, District 12 Female_

I have to go up after Kaney and he already seems personable enough. I'm not quite sure how he loves the capitol just so much and I don't think I can match his cheers. "In a simple monochrome dress, her beautifully adorable frame is covered by a complimenting red shade of pants. She has enough of a creative mind and will surely finaggle a way out of the Hunger Games. Let's give it up for District 12's latest, Naette Quill!" With an unsteady glance forward I step onto the stage and try not to get my golden heels scuffed up.

I begin to smile brightly as the audience as I see that most of the audience can see me, and they're cheering loudly for me. I'm quite...quite shocked and continue my walk to the interviewer's circle. "Hi Mrs. Iode," I greet. "I would have been here sooner but I didn't want to damage these shoes. They're really nice."

"You should be thanking your stylist then. Granted we have a theme but our stylists sure have hammered the nail on the head with it. Let's have our Stylists take a bow!" All the stylists in the audience stand up, quietly clapping as their cheers are being drowned out by the other members of the audience. "But that's enough about them. You are a creative mind, are you not? Where do you get it from?"

In order to answer this question I just...I just have to remain cute in this, right? "My parents told me to always think. I see a lot of people with a lot of things they want when I have to help in our toy store."

"Oh a toy store! How cute! What sorts of things do you have to help out with in the store?"

"Lots of things!" I try to reply enthusiastically. "Umm. I don't do much actually. I move boxes and assemble little figures. My brothers annoy me but I have to help them often."

"But you love them all the same, don't you?"

"Yeah, of course I do. But toy stores aren't profitable in District 12 and I wory that we'll get to be bankrupt before I die in the Hunger Games. My older brother Bruno is working in the butcher's now and that money helps us out a little bit. He brings home the bacon."

"Bacon as in-"

"Bacon. Like the pig thingy?"

"Oh thank goodness I thought you made a pun," Hera says when she's relieved. She asks about my friends in the District, to which I say that I meet a lot of kids who just look through the windows and throw in a dollar for a small gift for their mom or dad. "Like we've heard all through tonight, you have a lot to make it back to. What will you bring to the arena?"

"Umm… I hope to bring a smile and hope… I jsut want to make it home. 12 year olds have gone out of the arena but realistically, I'm a 12 year old from District 12, so hope may be a little bit far. I just hope my energy can carry me." The buzzer goes off and the audience goes 'Aww' before I sit down in my chair next to the energetic Kaney.

* * *

 _Erudite Soot, 17 years old, Distrct 12 Male_

Great. It's the most vulnerable part of the Hunger Games and everyone is acting OOC to get some character development in. It's either that or Hera Iode has that hypnotism spell that she spews through her lipstick. "Coming up from District 12 is our lovable conspiracy theorist, Erudite Soot. And he's clad in a beautiful pink accented tuxedo with preppy red shoes. Let's give everything we have for Erudite Soot of District 12!"

I almost storm the stage with my paranoia but have to keep my composure. I'm probably not getting out of this shit alive so I flip a middle finger to the rules and jump over the seat before resting my rump on the chair. Hera jumps up in shock and the audience laughs at her dress nearly coming undone. "What an entrance dear Erudite! Are you this energetic at home?"

"Mostly, yeah, sometimesmyenergytransferstomywordssothattheyarenotspacedandireallycan'ttellyouwhythatis."

Hera blinks and I assume that most of the audience does. Good. The more confused they are the less hypnotism spells they can give. With a stinky eye at the audience I give a glare at them, not you, dear reader, and try my best to remain silent. "We've had several District 12 tributes claim that they see the fourth wall. Are you in fact one of them?"

I can see a small camera zoom up to me and scream. The camera falls down and the wall separating me and you is gone. I try to show Hera you all but she blinks. "It'sadistrict12thingbutthishappens."

Hera blinks again, holding her finger up to her mic. "Do you have any family at home Erudite?"

"YOU WON'T LAY YOUR HANDS ON HER!"

"Talking in all caps now, aren't you?"

I go silent. She must see the text being displayed as the author writes it out. The buzzer goes off as though it were a deus ex machina and I bolt off the stage, crushing my shoes in the progress.

* * *

 _Neve Seren Orion, 16 years old, District 13 Female_

 _What the fuck?_ District 12 must be more insane that they taught us in District 13. Hera bristles at Erudite running off the stage and destroying a camera before fixing her wig. "Normally we'd stop right there, but what better of a way to put in a new tradition of interviewing District 13 by starting off now? In an elegant lime green tuxedo and brown earrings, our District 13 girl knows how to make a move. She's clad in forest green shoes and socks, give it up for our very first District 13 girl. Neve Orion!"

The audience actually screams loudly for me. I suppose they have energy to burn after not cheering for Erudite. I stumble into the bright light, holding a hand to my eye just before sitting down. "Yeah can't say that I'm glad to see you...not sure if I ever will."

The audience laughs as Hera holds a hand up to her mouth. "Don't you worry dear, just close your eyes for ten seconds and open them slowly." I do as she says and can see that she's wearing a gaudy mish mash of a dress. "Better?" I nod my head and she gives a light clap. "Now then, you're our first ever District 13 tribute on this stage. Would you like to tell us how your home is in District 13?"

"What is there to say?" I say kind of curtly.

"Oh hun, I ask the questions, and surely you have enough to say!"

I grab the neck of my tuxedo to shift it just as the lights above me are adjusted. "I don't live under a rock if that's what your asking. We were moved out of the underground and were one of the first."

"Is that truly all you can say?"

"If you want to hear more about the mass migration from under to above ground then Jakob can tell you. I don't get out much even then. I don't have many friends but a lot of people do look up to me. They probably look up at my parents more though."

"So you have respected parents down in District 13?"

"I'd say so. They're both involved in the community and ever since moving up they are still known since they help out around our housing block."

"And I assume you have friends?"

"My closest friend is a girl named Anise. She's loud and yeah her voice gets grating but she's always a good ally to have on your side. We met when were were approx. 9 and 8 so we knew each other for a while." The audience murmurs in interest as I sit stoically on stage. "That's really all I have to say about her besides that she's a greaet girl with a great head on her shoulders. She'll go far."

"And the capitol thinks taht you'll be going far too, right Capitol?" I get raucous cheers and take a seat. I'm not too sure what happened in the timeline.

* * *

 _Jakob Torser, 16 years old, District 13 Male_

It's going to be a long night if I can't nail this interview. Neve left a good mark so I'm hoping that I can ride that into success. With a sigh I listen to my own description. "Another District 13 tribute looks to make his mark as the very first District 13 male. If his fanbase in the capitol is any indication he already has! He's dressed in the very best and is currently rocking this hippity hoppity green tuxedo! A round of applause for District 13's Male Tribute!"

I puff out my cheeks and take a deep breath before waltzing on stage with a smirk to the cheers of several fangirls and fanboys. I throw them some finger guns and they seem to scream even louder before I take a seat in front of the flamboyant interviewer. "Is it normal for the crowd to be so worked up?"

"Yes, yes it is. IT's all the better to reassure nervous tributes like you!" The audience screams louder at that, almost as if they were given a signal. "So how is life above the surface."

"I don't have to take my vitamin D pills so I'm pretty good in that regard. And I hear that I've been getting darker. I'm not too uneven, am I?" The audience yells at me to take off my shirt but I keep it staunchly on. "But all of us are adjusting to such a wide space and having to use vehicles to transport to and fro."

"What could you have learned in District 13 when it was underground?"

"Besides what everyone knows is taught in District 13? You learn how to keep order in a community and account for even the most minor of changes. Macjor changes like uprooting up into the open air isn't covered in our curriculum"

"I see they teach you to use four dollar words."

"Yes they do, and it's easy to convey information. My dad got me into this habit before...before he was rendered mute due to a work accident." The audience gives me a sympathetic sound and I cross my arms. "I dont' need pity but I do need confidence, which I'm 100% sure that I have."

"And what does that confidence tell you?"

"This confidence was taught by my best friend Albany, my mother Angela, My sister Genevieve, and my brother Arthur. And most importantly, my father Marron. It's just the faith that what I have will get me through the arena. I believe I can, and hot guys and girls be damned, I'll fight tooth and nail."

The audience sends a cheer as I immediately relax. "So Jakob, any other stories you want to tell us?"

"I'll probably deliver it in a monologue during a dull period of exposition during the games, not sure about that. But I have a lot in store, so keep me alive if just for that." I flash a big grin and thumbs up just as the buzzer goes off.

* * *

 _Hera Iode, 38 years old, Emcee and Interviewer_

Jakob takes his seat as the last in a line. "Thank you Tributes," I look down at the line from Layla, Nikos, Antoinette, Desmond, Zippina, Fabian, Kimberly, Regan, Nidawi, Jon, Janine, Adam, Juniper, Aster, Lenora, Naomi, Samuel, Valonia, Atticus, Ember, Kaney, Naette, Erudite, NEve, and Jakob to the end of the line as the all stand up, not holding hands.

"Tonight has been a wonderful night for the capitol and for the Districts and I'm glad that it was shared with all of you!"

The lights begin to dim under raucous applause and I drop through the trapdoor.

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **Sorry it took so long to get this chapter out but at least I published it on the year anniversary of Tremble's Publishing! I'm so grateful for you all for reading to keep me motivated, and thank you all for your input, no matter if it's in PM's or in reviews. All of these tributes are my favorite tributes as Hera puts it. I hope to reach the bloodbath before July 4. I hope to get the next chapter out by June 14th (My birthday that I share with trump) just so you know. It took long because I was feeling unmotivated after I left a review that was misconstrued and I failed to resolve the issue, but now I'm better and geared up for the summer!**

 **Questions:**

 **1) Favorite interview (3 points)**

 **2) Least Favorite Interview (3 points)**

 **Bonus: Rank all the tributes (1 point per tribute ranked)**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	29. The Night Before the Games

_**The Night Before**_

 _ **Fabian Drason, 16 years old, District 3 Male**_

 _7:35-7:45_

An exhaustive night has just transpired and I can see that almost all of us want to go onto the elevators. In the rush to get on, I get separated from Batteron, Tranfera, and Zippina as they get onto a separate elevator. The paparazzi already seems to be flooding the stage all too quickly and have infiltrated back stage. In the mess of lights and cheers I bump into Nia, my ally, and guide her with me into an elevator that shuts immediately. "Thanks," she murmurs.

It's been a hard night for her too but we have to keep calm for tomorrow. I put a hand on her shoulder while she sighs. "Just try to rest when we get upstairs, ok?"

She nods timidly and begins to fiddle with her hands. I lean on the wall of the elevator, now aware of the District 6 boy also in the room. He gives a gruff grunt and crosses his arms to look outside the glass walls of the elevator. The ride begins to be uncomfortable but my floor is up and I stumble out. "Oh my goodness Fabian!" Evydysyncy says worriedly. "We lost you. I hope that you're unharmed."

"No thanks to you Evan," I say. "I'm going to my room." Evan makes an effort to follow me but I hear him being stopped by Batteron with a resounding thud.

I look at the clock, it's 7:42, still early. Mom and Dad would try to give me milk at this time only to realize that it wouldn't help, and I'd settle for some kind of tea. 7:43. All I can do right now is...well hope that my family will come out Ok after my inevitable death in the Hunger Games. Calico...Calico is going to have to stand up for herlsef sometime soon.

I only wish for the best.

 _ **Neve Seren Orion, 16 years old, District 13 Female**_

 _7:45-8:25_

Our mentor, Joshua, has been separated from us in the midsts of the chaos and Jakob and I wait for him as we begin to watch some of the recap. I grip the edge of my arm chair in anticipation as we slowly watch the tribute odds go by in a banner at the bottom screen. "They don't mean much," Yana speaks up. "Bunny from district 6 won the Hunger Games with the lowest odds for a victor recorded, at one point having 250-1 odds. She was 12 years old and clawed out over the bodies of 4 individuals."

The odds right now aren't that low but as we've seen, they fluctuate. Nikos is at 6-1 odds, Layla is at 8-1 odds, Desmond is at 3-1 odds, Antoinette is at 5-1 odds, Fabian is at 25-1 odds, Zippina is at 36-1 odds, Regan is at 3-1 odds, Kimberly is at 9-1 odds, Jon is at 45-1 odds, Nidawi is at 25-1 odds, Adam is at 12-1 odds, Janine is at 15-1 odds, Aster is at 13-1 odds, Juniper is at 40-1 odds, Jensen is at 65-1 odds, Lenora is at 29-1 odds, Samuel is at 8-1 odds, Naomi is at 18-1 odds, Atticus is at 24-1 odds, Valonia is at 60-1 odds, Kaney is at 40-1 odds, Ember is at 10-1 odds, Erudite is at 70-1 odds, Naette is at 75-1 odds, I'm at 19-1 odds, and Jakob is at 12-1 odds, or so I read at the time stamp labeled 7:58 PM.

Joshua joins us at about 8:03 PM when a the interviews cut away to a commercial of a bear plush that is all too familiar by this point. "Do you guys really think that watching the interviews is bound to help us out?" Jakob asks.

"You can always gather more information," Joshua dismisses.

The four of us sit in silence just as the clock hits 8:20. As I head up to leave I find myself intercepted by my classically tall mentor. "I haven't done this in a while so forgive me if I'm rusty, but it has been an honor serving you as a mentor. Do us proud in the arena and remember that you have a support system." I nod solemnly as she envelopes me in a hug. In shock I slowly trudge off into my room, trying to let sleep take me one last secured time.

 _ **Jon Cheris, 14 years old, District 5 Male**_

 _8:45-9:00_

Nidawi taps on my shoulder as I finish a quick snack of cocktail weenies. Dad had these for parties and I'd bring over three dozen for my friends on good days. I wonder if Nidawi would like some. "That's not what I came over to ask you for and you know it."

"Huh?"

"You've been thinking aloud again," she chides. I stand up and follow her into the hallway where the main bedrooms all intersect. "I've been thinking, more silently too. Jon, if you think I haven't been thinking about what you said onstage then you're an idiot."

"Oh, the kisses?"

"Yeah. I'm trying to watch what I say becuase everyone knows that the rooms are bugged, and no I haven't been around that District 12 loon." Though she stands shorter than I by a healthy margin she pulls me close as time seems to stand still. It registers as her face is halfway towards mine. I don't pull away and she slowly guides her way in, leaving a gentle kiss on my lips.

She pulls away slowly but the feeling of her lips linger on me as I stare into her eyes, red flushing my face. "Nidawi?"

"Yeah Jon?"

"What was that?"

"Your first kiss," she says bluntly. "I didn't want you to die without your first kiss. I know I'm not the first candidate but-"

"Hey, Nidawi, thanks. It means a lot more than you think. Sorry for taking your first kiss away from you."

"No, No," she says with a nonchalant motion. "I liked it, you're a great kisser too."

The two of smile at each other, sad smiles that flicker between joy and depression while we listen to the loud television in the background. Just gotta kiss de gurl… "Hey, if I asked you to...to...to be my girlfriend out of the Hunger Games…. Do you think you would have accepted?"

"I'd like to think I'd say yes, but Alaina wouldn't let me hear the end of it. Let's just get some sleep."

"Sounds good right now."

 _ **Naette Quill, 12 years old, District 12 Female**_

 _9:00-9:35_

"Is there anything else you can tell us?" I ask Lillian as she rotates her finger around a small cup. She turns to us with a grim look on her face and almost immediately bursts into tears. This is the fourth time in as many days. I look at the small toy she gave me and wait for little else to transpire.

"Naette is there something you need right now?" I hear Ketrin ask. He has a gruff voice, deeper than most of the victors, and it always makes me jump.

"Do you guys really...really not have any more pieces of advice?"

Ketrin turns to me with a sigh and rests his hands on top of each other. "I really can't give you anything more. District 12 may be hopeless but you just need to look at Krysten to know that hopeless and impossible are not the same things. I have a granddaughter like you, you know. She's somewhere safer than District 12. Just do what you think is best."

"I-I don't-"

"It helps more than you think," Lillian speaks up. "Thank you Ketrin. Are you going to try to knock some sense into Erudite?"

"He's a District 12 boy, like I was many years ago. He's resigned himself to being a bloodbath. Unless the author of the story pulls a deus ex machina like a spoiler that wasn't revealed in his main fanfiction, he's inconsolable. But the fourth wall was meant to be broken. We still are District 12 even if the Capitol wants to pry that out of our hands."

"Which is why the Hunger Games will end in-"

"Krysten! No spoilers!" Lillian sharply reprimands, causing a round of raucous laughter. "Just get to bed dear. You can't nap in the catacombs."

 _ **Valonia Kalene, 12 years old, District 10 Female**_

 _9:35-9:50_

"Atticus?" My much taller District partner turns to me in a hurried manner. I think I might have scared him. "Atticus there's a reason you left the alliance, right?"

"Yes there is," he says grimly. "I don't want to hurt you but Ember pushed me to an edge I didn't want to lash out at."

"Maybe she's much nicer at home?"

"I bet she is. Valonia, we need to focus on ourselves though. Look, it'll be us against the 25 other tributes as much as I hate to admit it. I want to believe that no one will do anything terrible but I think that we have some things to realize." Tears begin to fall from the corners of his eyes but he wipes them away. "I just...we… I… Nia. the two of us have a lot to get home to and I don't think that we can overly….overly rely on others."

The two of us sit in silence, occasionally drying our tears, as we look at the tv screen that has just finished showing interviews. A countdown of the top 151 victors goes up. We know what you came here for, here are the victors in the order we want! The names go by in a blur but I recognize Crate and Trusty, our two first victors, being among the first names listed and therefore one of the worst. "I'm going to bed," I tell Atticus absentmindedly.

"Have a good night," I hear him genuinely say. I'm about to enter the door to my room when I rest my hand on the handle, holding it tightly, like I did when it came to the barn all those years ago. I can almost hear my dad screaming inside. I finally creek the door open and there's no blood, no screams, and nothing but a comfy bed. I fall asleep immediately.

 _ **Desmond Pick, 18 years old, District 2 Male**_

 _9:50-10:05_

"Twenty five...Twenty six…" I sound off. I jump up from the floor and look around my room, feeling a shiver go down my spine. "This is stupid Desmond. You've...you've done this."

Seven..that's all I had to do though. One a year since I was...I was 12. No bother. I had to do it in order to be a true Panemian citizen. Today I have seen… I have seen the files. No. I will not let myself falter. I thrive in one on one situations, I thrive in rocky environments, I excel because I am secure, I am District 2 and District 2 is the best.

Still the faces of my...my...what were they called? My fatalities. That's the word. The faces of my fatalities swim in front of me on the pillow. First and foremost is a 17 year old girl with an anger issue who foolishly chose to take it out on the street. The next year a remorseful father of one of my fellow trainees but abusive nonetheless. The next year a cocky 18 year old who thinks that I'm his kill but I'm his. Then a 13 year old girl from my home mining town, followed by a 12 year old boy from the same town. The kills get more challenging the next year. It's a 17 year old girl who also stands a threat and she wants to make me a kill…

But she's not just a girl. She was Gwyndoline Summit. I met her at the same orientation. She wanted to be a victor to help her ailing parents and her sister was taking three jobs so she could pursue her dream. Gwyndoline fades away to an 18 year old boy.

My...My best friend. Hadrian Carbide, 18 years old, my...my comfort after my first kills. He wanted to be a victor in order to… it was to save his hometown.

All seven of them fade away. I pick up the pillow that projected their face, tie it up, and begin to punch it. I need to become a true Panemian citizen as a victor and sometimes you have to improvise your workout. I strip off my shirt and begin to practice punches, one of my weak spots. I hope my training sufficed.

 _ **Regan Attwater, 18 years old, District 4 Male**_

 _10:05-10:15_

My hands clasp in front of my mouth in something of a foreign gesture. Kyle and Castelia told me that it was a form of security for the people before Panem. As I clasp tightly I notice a small light bouncing off of the silver that lines Kyle's ring.

I clasp even tighter. Mom, Dad, Grandma and Grandpa, everyone else is waiting for me. I know that tokens get handed back to the family with the body but that's about it. Kyle...Kyle he knows that I have to make it back and if I don't he knows to take me out to the spot on a river where my parents met and just set me adrift.

Impulsively I open one of the drawers on my dresser. Inside is a camera, a book, a piece of paper, and some pens. The camera is only slightly foreign to me. I know how it works.

I plaster a confident smile and set the camera up in front of me. A timer has been made to go off after ten seconds. I try my best to keep the sadness out of my eyes just as the flash goes off. The photo develops in an instant. It;s not much of a photo but...at least I look good for Kyle and Castelia. I head out the hall and bump into my mentor, Bruce. "Anak, what is it?" he asks.

"Can you just deliver this to my family if the worst is...if the worst that is me dying comes?"

"Of course," Bruce says with a sad smile. "Think rationally but never give up hope, okay?"

"Yes sir," I say weary. Bruce turns into his quarters after tucking the photo into his overcoat. I strip off my shirt and look at myself in the mirror. Will my family even recognize me after what's happened in the arena?

 _ **Nikos Marbello, 18 years old, District 1 Male**_

 _10:15-10:20_

Left, right, left, right. Back and forth I look as I slowly strip out of my clothes into more comfortable sleepwear. I trace the mid-line of my stomach, instinctively recalling where Jasper had one of his killing blows dealt to him. It sends a shiver down my spine and I take care to cover up my stomach immediately. I hope the cameras in the private room aren't catching this.

"Yeah but I am," I hear Jasper. His voice has only gotten deeper with age and I see him to my right, arms crossed as optimistic and sarcastic as he was before. "You're so close dude, your'e going to be living my dream."

"It was your dream more than my dream wasn't it?"

"Yeah but I'm glad that you're the one to be the volunteer. Just keep looking over your shoulder, I can't keep doing that for you." Jasper takes a peek at his pocket watch and smiles. "My time is up but your chimes are bound to ring. And soon it'll be a bell."

"You always were the confident one." He disappears after I said that. Great. With a sigh I slide on my night shorts. I take a look at myself in the mirror. My curly hair will be disheveled by the end of the day tomorrow, my skin will be at least some bit dirtied, and I'm not sure if my head will be in the game.

 _ **Janine Midnight, 14 years old, District 6 Female**_

 _10:20-10:30_

I go to bed with my arms wrapped tightly around my pillow. I need to recollect for tomorrow but it always seems like there is never enough time in order to get all my thoughts straight. All the alliances are at least 2 people strong. Naette and Erudite aren't that strong of a pair so my team of 4 can probably take them on, that is if District 13 doesn't decide that I'm...I'm not worth it. I'm the physically smallest and Adam likes me well but I don't…

I can't think of that yet. District partners don't turn on each other until at least the final eight, and maybe before then if they're careers. Even if I'm not strong I can still bring a lot to the table. I can balance, I can last for long, and I can get away quickly.

It'll be all the more necessary if I really really want to get out of a tight situation. Well I'll be...I'll be fucked. Dad is waiting for me at home, that much I know. We're...we're all that we have to come home to and I can't picture anything else happening. I love the guys but I know they aren't willing to check on old man Midnight.

It's a terrible thought that I want to get rid of. I love my friends but my friends aren't my dad's friends and my dad just… this is complicated. I close my eyes even tighter and try to picture myself rocking the arena. Bunny is the youngest victor of all time so I think I can do this.

I just have to.

 _ **Samuel Palmer, 18 years old, District 9 Male**_

 _10:30-10:50_

I get up from the floor after completing another round of fifteen push ups. Caleb recommended that a workout would help my brain getting across the days. He also dropped me a list of the tributes with their height and weight statuses. I'm on par with Nikos and Atticus in terms of height but the weight is a bit variable.

Come on, just snap out of it I tell myself. I've wrestled guys stronger and bigger than I and stood up to my father. I hope mom is doing alright. She can leave him and take Naomi with- but that can't happen. I wipe the sweat off my brow and flop onto the bed, muscles somewhat trembling and mind racing. I hardly fight my eyelids closing but sleep doesn't come to me in a while.

When it does come I find myself in Caleb's arena, in a dress, and looking out for my sister. She's on the other side of the cornucopia and I can't reach her. The gong goes off too early and three other tributes fall to their deaths into an open maw of that one hydra mutt from the 75th Hunger Games. I'm about to run again when I feel someone gripping at my shoulder. "DONT' LEAVE ME!" My mom shouts. She tears off my dress and tries to drag me into a lethal carrot.

I wrestle free before being bombarded with a snow storm, hearing my friends calling out for me as Naomi's silhouette shimmers in and out of existence. I make a blind grab onto something hard. I scream for Naomi but my father materializes, slapping me clear across the face.

My dream ends there and I wake up in a cold sweat. My eyelids are relentless and I can't fight my exhaustion for too long. I just hope Naomi is having a better night than I am.

 _ **Juniper Aspens, 17 years old, District 7 Female**_

 _10:50-11:05_

The bed is like an endless sea of soft grass supported by the wind. I think back to the times when I'd just sit in bed, Lily at my feet, and my dad over me, reading a story. Books were common in District 7 if only because the paper would help. I wonder what would happen to them now. I know I dream a lot and I don't do much but tongiht I don't want any dreams.

My wish goes unfulfilled.

Tonight I dream of all the kids who walked up to me at various points in my life. I dream of every interaction with Kara and she blends into every bully that I once had. Lily is by my side and the two of us walk down to our favorite river, where Kara puts a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "I only made fun of you to be cool," she says.

"But you lost my friendship."

"And I know," Ash chimes in. "I hate it too."

I wake up and look at the digital clock that flips back and forth. It's only 10:58 and the Games will begin at 9:00 sharp. That means I have ten hours and 2 minutes. I can keep track of time in the arena. That much I know. I think that I just have to hold my hand high like a signal and just look at the shadow of it. I can't explain it but I can do it.

Many great geniuses know how to do it and they've never explained it. I just need to improvise. I think that my greatest problem would be being well rested for the days. I just hope that the days will be alright for me. I don't want anyone at home to see me be foolish.

 _ **Lenora Cotton, 16 years old, District 8 Female**_

 _11:05-11:35_

A lot of the odds are against me. A lot of the odds say that I won't make it out even in the best of circumstances. In many cases they're right. District 8 is a divided world and I'm neither street kid nor rich kid. Only two of our victors have been 'rich' kids, Cecelia Turner and Denim Cupin. I just need to breathe. I've been doing that well but life was basically set up for me in District 8.

Now that it's in my own hands I'm not quite sure what to think. Every day I'd go to school for the required five hours and work for the allotted four hours given to minors working in the factories. I've seen many accidents.

I can go the Hunger Games the way I want, cautious and low key, without doing much to attract attention. I trust that Velvet and Indigo will help me get the supplies. They've been telling me and Jensen that we just need to have trust in ourselves that we can get through anything. That's how they both got through the Hunger Games in spite of their worse off backgrounds.

Now, I think I just need to sleep. It's already 11:32 and according to our escort Extraavaganza, we just need sleep. It seems to be important.

I hope Mom and Rufus don't lose a lot of sleep because of me.

 _ **Kaney Mayes, 13 years old, District 11 Male**_

 _11:35-11:45_

"And with that, the group disbanded, sure to meet again." I read it aloud to my room. It seems so much more empty now that death is looming over. I wonder if the uncountable others who were in this room ever felt like they'd never feel a good night of sleep ever again. If only there was someone willing to listen to me talk to my stories.

It can't be that bad, my parents will have another child to read their story to if I don't make it out. I just have to make it otu and my parents will work better.

But what about Lenora? She has people to get home to as well. She has been a great friend but one of us would have to die if we want to get home. Judging by the other alliances, the careers, the semi careers, and the random alliances, we're outclassed. I don't want to break things up between us too soon but I don't want to ruin our alliance too early. It's…

It's too much to think about, and according to old Bale and older Donnabella, I can't be thinking too much. I close the comic/book up and put it on the night stand. I'll be missing so many other stories to read when I get out. So many things to play with my friends for, and so much of District 11 to see.

I guess I have to make it out to see it all.

* * *

 **Hey Guys Hopps here,**

 **We are but two chapters away from the bloodbath (unless I choose to add a filler chapter of mentors since we haven't seen them in a while). Since I'm on summer vacation and I haven't signed up for classes I will probably be updating at a quicker pace, and expect preparation for the sequel to come out sometime soon. I still don't have a victor nor escapees planned, and somethign may occur at the end that can only be justified with the fact that this takes place in modern time 2592.**

 **Sponsor Questions:**

 **1) What time frame do all of these perspectives take place? (XX:XX- YY:YY) (2 possible points)**

 **2) Which victors are mentioned? (1 point per victor)**

 **Bonus: Which two tributes had your favorite perspectives? (2 points per each)**

 **Fun Questions: Who is your pick of the victor? Who do you think will die in the bloodbath? Who do you think will escape?**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	30. The Morning Just Before

_**The Morning Of**_

 _Atticus Landry, 16 years old, District 10 Male_

 _District 10 Quarters; 7:05-7:35_

I wake up to the sight of my escort slowly wobbling me awake. It really was a rough night, dreams of mutts of too many animal species times two attacking everyone from home, a flood that covers the capitol from one floor to another, the first quarter quell's museum arena. I wake up with sweat on my hands and my escort shaking me awake. "Your clothes are at the foot," he says in that same haughty voice. "Please put them on and we can begin the walk to the hovercraft."

"Am I allowed to see my mentors?"

"No," is my blunt reply. He's a short guy but I really don't want to make anyone angry, no matter how much I'm quite sick of him. I strip out of my pajamas into a purple linen shirt and a pair of black shorts. I take a brief glance at my mirror. I don't think that this is my arena outfit by any means.

My stylist, Popova, opens the door for me and hastily marches me out. I guess it's the same deal every year. He seems kind of sick of it. My mind immediately begins racing with every step. There are many people back home that are waiting for me but I don't know if I can uphold that promise. We wait in front of the elevator. I just want to go home, to my dad, to Strider, to Erin, to Mercer. I just want normalcy.

But the elevator dings and I force down a sob as Popova guides me in. The ride is awkward.

 _Naomi Palmer, 12 years old, District 9 Female_

 _District 9 Quarters; 7:35-7:42_

"Can't I just talk to Samuel before I go? What if I never see him again?"

"The statistical average is that every single tribute sees every single tribute at least once in the arena before their death. You'll see him again," my stylists tries comforting me. I wipe the tears from my eyes and try to smile as she takes my hand and walks with me in front of the elevator.

The elevator seems to be going up slower at different times. I see it stop at floor 5 before going all the way up to the roof. Then it goes down to floor 2 and the cycle repeats. "You guys will get us ourtokens back right? And our bodies?"

"Of course," Bravada tells me. "The capitol aren't monsters, but the victor is the priority. So expect bodies back about three weeks after the victor returns home. It's for the best. I assume that you bury the bodies?"

"I...I guess," I stammer. "I haven't really thought about it but we buried my mom's dad right next to my mom's mom when I was younger. Then we watered their plots and uhh, they grew into wheat that we harvested."

I haven't thought about dying as much as I have since entering this Hunger Games. I'd like to be buried near a river. There are a lot of irrigation canals. I hope Mom sees me off when the body comes. I don't want any of them to forget.

 _Layla Ranevall, 18 years old, District 1 Female_

 _District 1 Quarters; 7:42-7:55_

After dropping off District 9 the elevator finally comes to me and Cackellina. I know there'll be a lot of time to catch my breath but I still keep breathing as I enter. "There''s enough air in the elevator you know," Cakellina says.

"I'm not sure if I'll be able to get it in a couple of hours," I snip. Once again I sigh and direct my attention to the elevator. The buttons light up at a much more infrequent manner than before. I'm starting to wonder if those kills in the academy provided a bad effect.

 _They did, dear daughter,_ I hear my mom saying. _I'm still so proud of you. Those rebels in those other districts won't stand a chance._ I look around awkwardly as the elevator hits the sixth floor. To my shock there seem to be many more floors. At least 13 floors...one per each District, the second to lowest floor where the chariots are, and the lowest floor where the training facilities are still available. But there are at least 2 buttons for floors below the training and three floors above District 13 below the roof.

"Were those always there?"

"What was always there?"

I look again and they seem to be gone. Cackellina looks to me with an uninterested glance but turns away. It seems like she knows but I guess it's too confidential for us. The rest of the ride is in silence and the roof comes up. I put on a game winning smile and walk out with Cackellina.

 _Jensen Allard, 12 years old, District 8 Male_

 _Elevator; 7:55-8:00_

"I don't suppose that you have any pieces of advice for me?" My stylist looks up from his magazine about District 7 uniforms and raises his eyebrow. "Everyone is worth listening to. Even...even people like my mom."

"Just keep your head steady. You're tall for your age, so make use of that."

Funny, I don't quite feel tall. I keep my head focused on where the doors are going to open as the elevator slowly climbs. Mom has been doing better. I hope that she doesn't fall to the trap of depression. The mere thought of that brings me to tears. I awkwardly wipe it away on my cornflower blue shirt.

I worry about her in the climb up to the elevator. My thoughts cross briefly to the guy she said would help her...her boyfriend but they haven't said that word yet. I hope my friends are smart enough to not be too hung up on me. Well, Jasinta and Hector are popular enough. It's about all that I hope for that they just don't forget about me, not like some of the other tributes.

The elevator goes up. "Thank you for escorting me up here and for being willing to give me what advice you could," I tell him. He flashes a rare smile as he guides me to the hovercraft. He puts me in a line to the hovercraft before going into a separate line.

"Please climb up the ladder," a monotonous voice tells me. I walk up to the ladder and climb up the rungs. Some kind of force field puts me in place as someone else walks over to inject something. They call it a tracker. I take a look at my forearm and begin to rub at it once I'm released. There are 13 others here, meaning I'm in the last half. Now it's just a waiting game.

 _Zippina Cayen, 16 years old, District 3 Female_

 _Hovercraft landing pad; 8:00-8:07_

I look out the corner of my eye as my stylist, a woman named Gallentina, heads into a separate line. From too many conversations with the loon from District 12 I now know that she gets sedated for the trip and taken into a separate portion of the hovercraft. I seem to be the only one in line, but surely I can't be the first, can I not?

I'm told to take deliberate steps up to the ladder and hold my hand out upon reaching the top. A robotic voice tells me that in order to proceed I must put on a tracker. To my knowledge it was created by District 3 ages ago during the dark days to keep track of rebels and loyalists alike. Typical of the capitol to take the District's inventions.

I finally am allowed to enter the main floor of the hovercraft as the 16th person to enter. We're waiting on 10 others. Good, I can still do math, since as I take my seat there are 10 chairs left empty. I keep an eye out for the District 5 pair, who are sitting opposite each other. They must have been the first ones up. "Hey-" I hear someone call out.

"Please refrain from talking." A guided voice says.

I find my ally in another alliance, Fabian, sitting across the way from me. I cast him a worried glance and he reflects one back. Forden, Watt, Isaak, Genera...mom and dad… I hope I can make it back to you guys.

 _Erudite Soot, 17 years old, District 12 Male_

 _Hovercraft landing pad; 8:07-8:15_

Enough breaking the fourth wall for now. Just take a seat.

The hovercraft is a dingy, depressing grey of metal. It's cleaner than even the better half of District 12. From the looks of it the floor where the stylists stay is below us. In the times since Katniss and Peeta only three tributes have came out and according to Katniss the escorts used to stay with the tributes as they flew. No one really talks about this so this is all new to me.

I do know a lot. District 12 is underrated and overlooked so I do learn things that I don't think are taught in the District 12 school. I hope that Telia can make it to District 13. I don't know how they're handling all the rebellion but they still are even with what the news reports describe as 'improved surveillance'.

As I take a seat as the 18th person to arrive I find myself in front of Naette. I hope that our deal holds up...we're the least connected of the tributes, but she has some temporary deals and I do too. It's funny though, a 12 year old with blond hair...like Primrose Everdeen.

I can't help but to dwell on the legend of Prim as the hovercraft begins to fill up with the last stragglers. They say that she escaped District 12 when she would have died with her husband and several of Katniss' cousins. Rumor has it she became the acting commander of District 13 for a long time and her family is the dynasty that rules 13 for now. Food for thought.

I just hope the tracker doesn't track thoughts.

 _Adam Cufole, 17 years old, District 6 Male_

 _Hovercraft; 8:15-8:25_

Of all 26 tributes I find myself to be the last tribute to enter the hovercraft. I seat myself next to the girl from District 7 and the girl from District 5. I can see the 5 girl passing a smile every so often to her partner...Joe or Jean or something. My stylist said that they kissed last night and many of us in the facility said it would happen. According to Bunny it happens more often than tributes admit.

The hovercraft rises with a steady back and forth motion that seems to lull us all into something of a small trance. I can barely keep my head focused against Janine, my ally, so I look to the aft end of the hovercraft passenger container to see Janine and my allies from District 13. Jakob has his head in his hands and Neve just has her head tilted up.

 _If I manage to make it home I have to ask dad what happened with mom._ The thought comes across my head alongside many others. _Garry, I sure do hope that you find another idiot to torment. Derrick our old boss better give you a raise… and Dad...Dad… I just hope that mom knows that she left an amazing man._

I turn my head and catch the clouds soaring past the hovercraft. It almost seems like a dream at this point. The hovercraft heads into a clearing where a field of green trees is interrupted by several intermittent buildings. The hovercraft jostles most of us awake and I lose sight of the buildings. Soon enough, we've landed, and the peacekeepers are here to escort us off.

 _Antoinette Vermur, 18 years old, District 2 Female_

 _Hovercraft landing pad; 8:25-8:30_

A peacekeeper is assigned to each and every one of us. As we all stand up a peacekeeper gets to our side and begins to march us down the steps of the hovercraft. I guess hovercrafts have different landing gear from their entrance gear. With a grunt I am one of the first to disembark from the hovercraft. "Keep your eyes forward dear," the peacekeeper tells me. I take a glance downward at my feet to see that the peacekeeper is walking similar to me despite their substantial height, meaning that the peacekeeper is most likely female.

I don't suppose it could be Valda? Or Juliet Stonnel?

Or maybe I'm just looking for something familiar.

I wonder if any of the victors felt some form of dread in the walk to the underground prep. My heart races as we approach the steel door. I'm pushed in there gently by the peacekeeper and take a moment to take in my surroundings. A bed, a shower, a robe, and a platter of food. Now...Kyrenia recommended that I eat some fruit and a piece of meat before taking a shower.

But I guess I should wait though. My stylist will be telling me when to shower. I take a banana in my hand and begin to munch, it'll probably be a weird year.

 _Kimberly McAuckswatch, 16 years old, District 4 Female_

 _Underground Prep Room #8; 8:30-8:55_

"Hello Kimberly," my stylist, Renneka, says with a sad smile. "You've always been a dear and I hate commanding tributes but you should take a shower as I prepare your arena outfit."

I do as I'm told when I enter the small washroom. The shower is simpler than the one in the capitol and has a little bit of a mirror. I trace my fuller cheek bones and wince, it's still a bit big for my liking but some sacrifices are necessary for survival. And if I had to make a choice I'm not going to prioritize skinniness over survival. I just have to be limber and move on.

The water pours over my shoulders as I rest my head against a towel draped against the tile. I try not to doze, instead letting one of my father's stories float to the front of my mind. He had to rescue three people in a lifeboat but his other rescuing partner had no room for others, and his boat could only have 2 others. He had to choose between an injured woman, a fit woman, and an elderly woman. It was a family of a mom and two sisters that all were willing to sacrifice themselves.

I never found out the choice my dad took. I saw all three of them in the District but Dad never ended the story. I turn off the faucet and wrap a towel along my waist. I hope that I'll find out one day.

 _Aster Mallory, 17 years old, District 7 Male_

 _Underground Prep Room #13; 8:55-9:15_

"Just put on a bathrobe for now," my stylist tells me once I try to exit. To my right is a light pink bathrobe that I slide onto my frame. Pink has never been my favorite but it's not my least favorite either.I tie the string around my waist and head out. My stylist has a pink polo shirt, a brown jacket with pink lining, a pair of jeans, and running shoes.

"That looks remarkably simple for this year," I note.

"There's actually some items in this jacket, a safari jacket," he notes. "You're not allowed to open them until the arena so as the pedestal clicks in place start unzipping."

"These shoes are meant for a variety of environments," he adds. "It also seems like you'll start off in a forested area."

"How do you know that?"

"Capitolites are granted some things that the Districts aren't," he adds. "First the polo, then the pants, then the jacket, then the shoes."

"No undershirt?"

"None. But there is room for your token." He holds out a small pencil-my pencil, and my token. I put on the clothes and take an uneasy seat, waiting with my stylist for the beginning of the Hunger Games. It's almost automatic how I grab a napkin and begin to doodle. "Hey kid?" I look up at my stylist as he raises his massive sunglasses. "If you make it out I'll buy any sketches you have."

 _Nidawi Sebille, 17 years old, District 5 Female_

 _Underground Prep Room #10; 9:15-9:28_

"Of all things!" My stylist says with a huff. "I'm the last person to know that you and Jon kissed?!"

"Like I've said," I say with a deep breath. "IT'S NOT A BIG DEAL! WE'RE FRIENDS!"

She turns indignantly and holds out a platter. "Just eat up dearie. There's no guarantee that there'll be food in the arena." Mercifully she's silent. The stylists really are a breed of their own. I hold my hand out and grab a piece of bread, smearing it in some kind of butter and taking a bite.

"Is there anything that I should know?" I ask her.

"Dearie, my job is done for a while. Just stay alive. I ehar that works for District 12."

I look at her with a dumbfounded look on my face and return to my bread. It is only now that I realize the bread tastes just like the ones from home. Man I will miss this. I get to finish three slices and an orange before my thoughts are interrupted with a voice on the intercom. "All tributes to the pipes."

I take a look at my escort as images of my friends begin to appear in my mind. Jon, Michael, Artair, Newtonia, Bonnell, Veena, Yusef, Lindall, Delancy, Vern, Oris, Jenica… Who knew that our group could be losing two members before half of us hit puberty? I step on the pedestal with a look back at the groove I made on the couch. I guess I won't rest easy now.

 _Ember Hayfield, 17 years old, District 11 Female_

 _Launch Tube #22; 9:28-9:29_

"One minute until launch."

The same robotic voice echoes through the launch tube as I try my best to organize my thoughts. I look at my stylist as she presses a palm against the glass separating us. "I believe in you and Kaney," she says. She really believes that since we won 7 years ago we can win again. For once I don't laugh at her idiocy, but I still give her a confident nod as the glass further seals me in.

Thorn and Durian are probably gunning for the seats closest to the screen, like a couple of years ago, and mom and dad are probably watching from the sanctity of the shop. Pearan probably has slipped away from her douche of a father and I can picture a good lot of them sitting in the specialized stages for family members.

High above me, about twenty or thirty feet above me, the light begins to shine from a hole that beats down on my safari jacket. My breathing increases and I try my best to close my eyes in deep thought. There are sounds of whirring at my feet but I pay it no mind. First thing first when I get up, find my allies, then grab the bags, then do something. _Save the betrayals….the betrayals for three days._ If I have to be the villain, so be it,.

The elevator rises and hold my head high as my plate clicks in place.

 _Jakob Torser, 16 years old, District 13 Male_

 _ **Arena- Cornucopia Battlefield;**_ _9:29-9:30_

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, LET THE SIXTH QUARTER QUELL BEGIN!" the voice of the interviewer resounds through the arena as we all look around nervously. For now we seem to be in a forest, but for how long?

 _Sixty, Fifty-nine, fifty-eight_. Next to me on the right is a small girl, either Nidawi or Naette, I can't remember her name. I can't let sizes intimidate me no matter how small or large, or under or overestimate people because of that.

 _Fifty-one, fifty, forty-nine, forty-eight, forty-seven._ Another boy is next to me. Either the loon from District 12 or the District 10 boy… that means he's either Erudite, Nikos, Samuel, or Atticus. I stand about three degrees counter clockwise from the mouth of the cornucopia.

 _Forty, thirty-nine, thirty-eight, thirty-seven, thirty-six_. I find Janine a little more than ninety degrees clockwise from the tip. She's not in a good place. Regan, the district 4 boy, has his pedestal right next to her, but it looks like he's not looking for her, no...for someone else.

 _Thirty-three, thirty-two_. He makes eye contact with the District 2 girl on his left, gesturing to the District 11 girl about across from him. I don't see hide nor hair of Adam and my view of Neve is just about concealed.

 _Twenty-six, twenty-five, twenty-four, twenty-three_. I see a backpack on the ground and set my feet up to run for it before I get the idea to check in my pockets. I pull out a map, a schedule, and what seems to be some kind of stick. I don't have time to investigate the rest of my pockets yet.

 _Fifteen, Fourteen, Thirteen._ A loud sound plays from the tip of the cornucopia and the pedestals begin to move back. I hold on, and so does everyone else around me. We hear the sound of trumpets blaring before what looks to be a parade barge infiltrates the center of the clearing. "HERE WE GO!" An annoying voice shouts. It's accompanied by eight more parade barges.

 _Seven._ One of the barges, this one with a giant duck in a sailor suit, grinds up a massive backpack, spraying its contents.

 _Six._

 _Five._ A more regal barge, with girls in different dresses throws random loose supplies all over.

 _Four._

 _Three._

 _Two._

 _One._

The gong rings and we all rush, taking care to dodge the massive barges.

* * *

 **HEY GUYS, HOPPS HERE WITH ONE WORD: FINALLY!**

 **and now I'm here with several other words. It took me a while to get here, over a year, but if I do say so myself it's not too shabby. For the most part I'm writing by the seat of my pants, but I hope this somewhat fillery chapter is good enough for your liking.**

 **Jakob is about to the right of the mouth of the cornucopia. next to him in a clockwise manner is Atticus, Fabian, Erudite, Layla, Lenora, Neve, Desmond, Ember, Nikos, Naomi, Jon, Kaney, Valonia, Adam, Kimberly, Nidawi, Aster, Zippina, Antoinette, Regan, Janine, Naette, Jensen, Juniper, and Samuel.**

 **SEND ME A PM WITH WHAT YOU THINK YOUR SPONSOR POINTS ARE! I HAVE A RECORD BUT I WILL DO MY BEST TO UPDATE IT AND TALK WITH YOU ALL IF YOU HAVE POINTS! Also, I plan to operate more on the honor system.**

 **Sponsors:**

 **1) Describe the arena outfit (3 points)**

 **2) Describe the cornucopia battle field (2 points)**

 **Just for fun, who do you guys think will come out of the bloodbath alive? Also did you like my parade? There'll be a couple more :)**

 **Bonus: What arena gimmicks are in store? How will the tributes react to such a dynamic arena? Who is most screwed based on positioning (not gonna determine kills to a major extent)? (1 point per question.**

 **I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and eagerly wait the next one...the real action is bound to begin.**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	31. Bloodbath

_**The Bloodbath**_

 _Desmond Pick, 18 years old, District 2 Male_

 _Ten seconds after Starting_

The trees opposite me seem to return to their original position, but the parade floats are still here. I have to put a hand over my chest to still my beating heart. I share an awkward glance with the girls on either side of me that seems to drop almost entirely once we hear the sounds of movement break. "LET'S MOVE!" I try to shout to Layla.

She leaps off her pedestal and shouts to me but gets blocked by the tall District 11 girl. I fall backwards as I see them in a chase between the backpacks, the floats, and all the sparks. The girl on my right, I think the District 13 girl, makes a loop around the top of the Cornucopia, where I lose her.

Based off of what it was that Nervo told me, all tributes have been running to the cornucopia lately. This is probably the most dangerous bloodbath yet. I duck under a low hanging rose fixture as I try to make my way to the center of the battlefield. The cornucopia this time is a gold metal sheen. It's a bit blockier than usual but has some castle like elemets.

As I rush in, I find myself hitting a block. "Desmond!" I hear from above me. Regan grabs my hand and lifts me up "Don't bother, there's nothing in here."

"That's not good," I note.

"Heard. Try to get as much as you can!"

"Have you seen Kimberly or the rest?"

"No!" he shouts, exiting the cornucopia.

With a sigh I begin to run out, bumping against a short boy. He falls to the ground and scampers up, almost making a leap to a nearby backpack. Within seconds what seems to be a lion themed float backs up against me. I make a climb onto it, finding it occupied by Jensen, the District 8 boy. He looks at me with fear in his eyes and jumps off. I wouldn't have killed him but it's probably for the best that I don't see him.

I drop down from a lower platform with a backpack on my shoulder and a sword in my hands. I hear a scream from the other side, and just now I realize that some of the parade floats are coated in a small splotch of blood. I dwell a second far too long and find myself running into the same boy from earlier. He holds up a knife and tries to throw it at me but I swiftly dodge it. He tries to run over a moving float of what seems to be an ocean themed float. With a heave I pull myself up and corner him against a lighted sea shell prop. He's breathing heavily now, his brown hair is now coated with sweat and his hazel eyes are bugged out. The small boy closes his eyes just as my sword finds its true mark.

He slumps down, falling off the float. I hope he doesn't get crushed by the wheels at all. "Nikos!" I shout when the float moves by my ally. He's on a different float though, one with Regan and several other tributes. He waves to me but loses his balance and falls off. I try my best to move through the sea themed float but it moves away quickly, and all I can do is buckle down.

* * *

 _Naette Quill, 12 years old, District 12 Female_

 _Forty-five seconds after starting_

I can barely think when I make a blind leap from the top of the cornucopia onto a boat themed parade float. Many of us found out that the supplies are either on the floor or on the floats. I make my way up and down the levels of the float, trying my best to look for a backpack. I can only find a small boomerang. _It'sBetter ThanNothing_ I think without spacing my words.

With it in my hands I begin to run forward, bristling against a girl a little taller than me. She screams in pain and I see blood trickling down her arms. "I'M SORRY!" I shout.

She looks at me, confused, but then looks off to the right to see a very small room with 10 small backpacks inside. The two of us stare at each other before running forward, then we trip. Out of nowhere, a giant reptillian beast- crocodile- is lying on the floor. It growls for a second, grabs what looks to be an instrument, and begins playing it. I look at the girl in confusion, then the race to the backpacks begin again.

This time I'm tackled by a mass of dark black hair and olive skin. "ERUDITE!" I scream.

"THAT'S ME!" he shouts. "GET THE STUFF!" The girl I accidentally hit looks at the two of us before going to a separate corner of the room. She finds some bandages that she puts on sloppily. She begins to look through the bags, tearing it open and spilling it.

Out of the corner of my eye I see a head of blond hair diving through an entrance on another side. Erudite pushes me behind him as he tries to grab a piece of string. I recognize her as one of the careers, she had a brief talk with the District 13 girl one day. The girl on the other side locks eyes with her and runs away. This gives Erudite enough time to try to whip the girl.

She dodges, and Erudite's momentum makes him slip over some fruit. He tries to scramble up but the career girl throws some more backpacks on him. I scream as she holds up a blunt looking weapon. "COME ON!" the other girl tells me. She grabs my hand as I blindly grab at one of the backpacks, bringing down a shelf and blocking her approach. The crocodile is still on the float when we make our way up to the top.

"WHAT'S HAPPENING?!" I shout as the crocodile begins to play its trumpet loudly.

"GET TO THAT FLOAT!" she points to a float with flying carpets. I can make the jump to the float- I'm sure of it- but we have to wait.

"WE HAVE TO WAIT!"

"ON MY MARK!" The two floats begin to run adjacent to each other. We prepare to jump but then the stupid crocodile blares its trumpet. She makes the jump easily but I fall about 5 feet onto a lower carpet. She pulls me up to the main body and I have to catch my breath. We lay flat for a while.

* * *

 _Fabian Drason, 16 years old, District 3 Male_

 _75 seconds after starting_

"I just have to get out, just have to get out!" I mutter to myself. I still haven't moved from my pedestal, and there aren't any supplies in sight for me. My only choice right now is to make a leap onto a giant float. Now the only one that I can see is a giant float with a giant mouse. He seems to be playing drums. It's followed by a smaller float with other drums.

I breathe heavily and prepare to make a leap to the smaller float. There are a lot more items on that float and I might be able to get a better advantage. With my jump I collide into the smaller set of drums and look up to see a very cross looking mutt. "Sorry," I hastily apologize. It acknowledges my apology with a light laugh that sounds like a 'hyuk' and still plays the drums.

Bewildered I make my way to a small staircase, where there are a lot of supplies just scattered about. I begin looking around frantically as I try my best to shove what I can into my pockets. "Aster!" I hear a voice shout. I try my best to hide but accidentally bump into a taller boy.

I climb up back on the float and try my best to look inconspicuous but accidentally knock him off the parade float when he follows. I take a deep breath but his partner seems to still be on the float, and knocks me off to join him. He jumps down with an axe in his hand and I try my best to scamper away.

The end of the battlefield is insight when a float that looks like a giant garden moves in front of me. "ASTER!" I hear a girl scream from the float. He looks distracted and I try to slip away, taking a backpack that he left on the ground, but his partner tackles me to the ground.

His arms close around my neck as I hear him whisper faint apologies as sweat drips down his curly head. I flail around, scratching his tanned skin, but he's simply too strong for me to handle. A warm light seems to envelope around me. I don't want my parents to see me going like this, much less Jordan or Calico, but I guess I failed again.

* * *

 _Juniper Aspens, 17 years old, District 7 Female_

 _One Hundred Forty-five seconds after starting_

"He did it!" I shout in what I'm not sure is glee or fear. The curly haired semi-career from District 9 looks up from the body of the District 3 boy and makes a run for it. He and Aster break into a run in order to catch up to us. I hold my hands down for the both of them and they climb up.

I'm about to push myself up when I feel something sharp going through my back. I scream loudly and find myself pinned to the ground. It already hurts to breathe but I manage to turn my head around to see a tall dark skinned girl pulling the spear like weapon out. She looks to a small girl on the other side of the float and tells her to run. I don't think that she's going to survive though. Neither of them.

I suddenly find myself being cradled upwards and propped against the wall of a giant rose. I look up at the colors and put on a smile as I take a glance at Aster, who is trying his best to close the chest wound. It's getting harder to breathe but I think I can last to see my killer face off against who will kill her.

"Samuel, run up, just try to run up!" Regan commands. He's very good looking and very commanding today. The girl from District 11- I recognize her now, holds up a spear commandingly but loses her grip when I think the parade float runs over at least ten backpacks. Rose petals begin to fall onto the parade float and Regan begins driving her back, dodging what seems to be heavy blows from...Ember I think… and then she's backed up against the wall.

In a last ditch effort she finds Aster on my right and pulls out a knife from her shirt and swings it towards Aster in frustration. To my shock, he dodges, and to my greater shock, the blade cuts into my shoulder. I let out a howl of pain as Ember tries to stand up. Regan begins to fight harder and so does Ember, but ultimately Ember falls to the ground with three holes in her chest.

He winces and collapses next to me. Kimberly runs over to him and begins applying some gauze onto him. "She's too far gone," Kim says sadly. I look at her with open eyes as my vision begins to cloud with light.

"I'm sorry you had to go this way," Regan says sadly. He flashes a weak smile that turns even weaker when he looks at Ember. "I'm sorry to you too."

If anyone from my alliance wins I hope that they tell mom, dad, and Lily that I'm looking on from wherever I am.

* * *

 _Adam Cufole, 17 years old, District 6 Male_

 _Three Hundred Seconds after starting_

I close my eyes as Jakob and I move closer and closer to the edge, ducking down. And looking as some other stragglers move forward. Several other bodies have been launched off parade floats and landed with a crack. With a lot of luck the two of us have stowed away on a giant float without people noticing us, besides the mutts that flash umbrellas at us. "Where could they be?" Jakob asks nervously.

"Beats me," I say without thinking. "I hope they're alright."

He nods tiredly and continues looking over the edge. Then he grows silent as we see the District 1 boy chasing a short guy from the middle District. He trips over a stray backpack and spills it contents all over. His other backpack spills open and he looks around the field, cut off by another large barge with what looks to be a giant pixie flying high above. It swoops low to him and the pixie pushes him into the District 1 boy.

It's hard to watch as he tries to regain his composure but the tears just fall down too fast to catch. I can see the District 1 boy run a blade through his neck and the boy falls to the ground. He dries his hands and runs off to join an ally, the district 1 girl who once threatened Neve after a day of training.

"That was rough to watch…" Jakob says, visibly shakened.

"Well this shit is mandatory television. You...you get condoned to see a lot of that in the Ditsrict," I say with a sad sigh. "I guess we're staying on this barge?"

"Looks like it." He stands up and moves to the back of the float, giving a smile to the umbrella wielding mutts before he finds a large crate. "Hey, do you think this could be useful?"

I join him on the second floor of the barge and see the massive crate. "Let's pry it open." I grab a knife that I snagged from the floor and slide the blade on some of the the tighter taped areas, cutting open so the lid pops up. It's just clothes from what we see, and the two of us turn away.

* * *

 _Atticus Landry, 16 years old, District 10 Male_

 _Four Hundred Eighty seconds after starting_

The light of the sun breaks through the crate and I leap out, wrapping my arm around the nearest attacker. "WHO ARE YOU?!" I shout nervously.

There are two boys, and we're about the same build. My eyes have just about failed from opening them after waiting in darkness and I try to pull tighter just as spots begin to appear in them. It's enough time for my opponent to flip me over him and I feel the wind knocked out of me. I can barely recover when the other one throws me over his shoulder and holds me down. "What were you doing in there?" he asks angrily.

I try to rub at my eyes but the other boy gets an impulse to search my back, trying to find weapons, and finding nothing. "Why did you do that?" he snarls. I arch my head upward but only find another arm wrapped around my neck, threatening to choke me out. I fight back but there's only so much you can do on the ground.

"You guys…" I strain. "You guys aren't the careers?"

"No," the one on my back says with a relieved sigh. "How'd you end up in there? Here Jakob, I'll just hold him up."

Gaining my breath I see the the District 13 boy, Jakob, hold his arms in a crossed position as he nurses a growing bruise on his forearm. "So? Tell us what you're thinking."

"I can't find my alliance, so I hid," I say honestly. "Going it alone is pretty dangerous according to Bingo. The District 2 girl almost got me and I can't find my allies anymore."

I feel Jakob's ally loosen his grip ever so slightly and I think I can breathe a lot easier. I try to wiggle free only to feel him tighten again. "I've dealt with a lot of guys who think they can wrestle out, and I can improvise," my holder threats.

"Adam," Jakob says sternly. "Ease up. I don't think I want to see you with blood on your hands." Then he turns to me and holds a knife up to my face. "Try anything funny and I will hurt you. I don't want to kill, yet, but it'll be enough for a warning huh?"

Nervously I nod and take a gulp, letting out a breath I didn't know I was holding once i can move, and fall to the floor, coughing. Geez, my folks back home would be ashamed of me. "Is this until we find our other alliances?"

"If you insist," Adam says snidely. "Don't think that this is permanent."

* * *

 _Lenora Cotton, 16 years old, District 8 Female_

 _Five Hundred Forty seconds after starting_

"What did you get Kaney?" I ask. "I'll dump out my bag once we set up camp but for now I've felt up a knife. Which is pretty good. I also have some band aids, some fruit, and three bottles of water. I should be good."

He catches his breath, long runner or not he's still 3 years younger than I am and he's a mayor's kid so he probably isn't used to running intensively. "I'm good. We should just keep walking. I found a map in my safari jacket and it says we started off in the Hungered Acre Woods."

"Do you think that I can find something else in my safari jacket?"

"Worth a look," he says with a smile. I begin to unbutton all the button s on my jacket, unzip my zippers, and pull out bags upon bags. I leave a mental note to be aware of the map, be aware of the needles, be aware of anything that comes out.

"I got a map too. I think that it gets updated. There's a little blue dot- cornflower I think- that's tracking me," I note. "Do you have a dot?"

"Yeah, it's a little on the dark brown side so I think that it's me. I assume that's just my District color, like my shirt." I take a glance at his shirt and it is a similar brown shade. "Needles? I got that too. Can't we use that as a weapon? And the buttons?"

"Yeah," I say in surprise. "Someone baked a needle into a muffin one day, and then gave it to the boss. He couldn't speak for three days."

"You aren't going to do that to me, right?" Kaney asks.

"It's too early to talk about betrayal you know," I say quietly. "I wouldn't do that at the end game either."

Kaney opens his mouth to respond before we hear a rustling in the bushes. I get on guard, holding one of my needles out and putting it in between my knuckles, a fighting tactic I saw outside. "Please," I hear someone say. A girl- little Valonia- stumbles out of the bushes and holds her hands up. "I'll give you what you want...I have clothes and a knife and a...please just leave me alone…" she whimpers.

Kaney takes one look at her and gently walks up, dropping his backpack and safari jacket. "It's okay," he says quietly. "I don't want to kill you. Aren't you with Ember?"

Valonia takes a big breath and gulps before trying to stand up stronger. "Atticus was right. The alliance was unstable. One of the careers killed Ember. The District 9 boy killed Fabian and I don't know where anyone else is!"

"Kaney?" I speak up. "We can let her join us for a while."

"That's….that's a bit of a risk but I can be fine with that," Kaney says through a hard breath. Quarter Quells aren't too nice on District 11. I just hope Ember's doing fine wherever she wound up in."

The conversation fizzles out as Kaney makes a move to pick up his dropped supplies.

 _ **Boom**_

 _ **Boom**_

 _ **Boom**_

 _ **Boom**_

 _ **Boom**_

 _ **Boom**_

"Six," I state simply. One of them was Ember, another was Fabian, and I just have a sinking feeling that one of them was Jensen. Quell bloodbaths are surprisingly low. Even the 18 person bloodbath is equivalent to 9 deaths. It's nowhere near the record. "Let's just keep going right?"

"Right," Valonia says.

* * *

 _Corrin Dexter, 31 years old, Voice of Mono-Pooh-Ma_

 _660 minutes after starting_

"Well Panem, we can't expect big bloodbaths all the time, but can you tell me if this was action packed with a loud cheer?" a random host says from the radio. There's a loud cheer from the capitol and many peoples' faces are shown on the television screen.

"Confirmed fatalities," a robotic voice reads off to the gamemakers. "Fabian Drason, Jon Cheris, Juniper Aspens, Jensen Allard, Ember Hayfield, and Erudite Soot."

"You know what that means now, right?" Irradia tells me. She's been getting rather unprofessional with me as of late and it's getting uncomfortable. "Come on Big guy, let taht bear rock the tributes' world."

"I'm only doing this becuase you suckered me into this role," I grumble as I clear my throat.

On the minimap of the arena in front of us, a signal shows that the robotic voice of Mono-Pooh-ma is about to be broadcast live. I make a note to myself to slip into the Pooh voice at first. "Hello my friends! I hope that you guys are aware enough not to break the following rules! This will be one of the only times that the Hungered Acre Woods will be closed off. I will also close off the Carburator desert. Also prohibited two minutes from now is carrying things in your Safari jacket, eating bread, and forgetting what the tip of a shoelace is!"

I turn away from the mic to cough and shift into the Mono-Pooh-Ma voice to deliver the last part of my message. "And if you District folk forget, you can expect an execution in the future just like our long forgotten coworker up in the skies from the parade! Upoohpoohpoohpooh!"

The feed cuts off and I slam my head on the counter. I get a high five from the other Gamemakers as we look at the surviving tributes work fervently to remove all the things from the pockets. It doesn't even need the full 2 minutes.

"Alright the bloodbath is passed, we can start handing out sponsor supplies," Jacobsin announces. "We don't want starvation in a quarter quell people! If they die they die to each other or the arena."

I pick up a phone that rings next to me. Irradia mercifully leaves to take care of the mutts. Something tells me this year is going to be crazy.

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps Here**

 **if you haven't seen Erudite's post on the SYOT forum then sponsorships have changed. Several different formulas will be in play past this rule session. There will be 2 rule sessions a day, and people will die because of this as a disclaimer. I'm sorry for changing this but inflation was an issue that I had to work out. I plan to have a perspective from every surviving player in the next two chapters. So yeah...a lot of ramble.**

 **I am really sorry for killing off the characters that I had to, but I did have to kill these characters because we need to have 1 victor (and possibly 2 escapees but that's besides the point). The hardest thing was killing off the tributes that I chose to, and Every submitter contributed an amazing character and I hope that I can do them all justice.**

 **Eulogies will come at the end of chapter 32**

 **Sponsor questions:**

 **1\. Where does Desmond's victim prop himself against to survive? (2 points)**

 **2\. What distracts Naette in making the jump to the 'flying carpet' themed float? (2 points)**

 **3\. How does Fabian get cut off in his failed escape from Aster and Samuel? (2 points)**

 **4\. What is the parade float where Ember is killed covered in? (2 points)**

 **5\. How many levels does the parade float with umbrella wielding mutts have? (2 points)**

 **6\. Where does Atticus hide in to escape the bloodbath? (2 points)**

 **7\. For how many days was the boss rendered speechless? (2 points)**

 **8\. Which voice does Corrin use first? (2 points)**

 **Bonus:**

 **Which were your favorite Deaths? (1 point)**

 **Which were your favorite floats? (1 point)**

 **What were your least favorite parts? (1 point)**

 **What were your least favorite deaths? (1 point)**

 **Just for fun: WHY IS GAMORA?!**

 **HEY EVERYONE I MET MY GOAL OF GETTING THE BLOODBATH BEFORE JULY 4**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	32. The First Ruling Period (Day 1)

_**Day 1 (first ruling period-10:00-6:00):  
**_ _Nidawi Sebille, 16 years old, District 5 Female_

"Why is this backpack so stupid?!" I groan. With my luck I've ended up on a giant spinning crab thing that looks like a ball with rings along it. This bag sucks. But beggars can't be choosers when it deals with grabbing potentially life saving supplies. Why are there so many knots on this damn bag?

I sigh loudly and try my best to regain my balance when standing up on this stupid hermit crab. The cannons have rang out and I counted six. "Oh dearie dearie me honey!" I hear an annoying voice call out. I turn around hastily and see a bear standing on top of the crab's head. "You know honey, I could pull of the first execution right here!"

"I...I didn't break the rules you know?"

"Oh I know that," the bear says dismissively. "You aren't breaking the rules for now. But you know what your punishment would have been had you lost your balance then and there?"

"Please don't," I reply warily.

"Oh FINE! Jeez, teenagers nowadays. I'm almost glad that twenty five of you are guaranteed to die so soon! Anyways my friends and I have to prepare some things, and as my orange friend says, 'TTFN Ta-ta for now!'"

He jumps off the hermit crab and rolls on the ground. The crab stops and seemingly looks at the mutt. I look at the bear mutt and see it transform before my eyes into a cuddly looking bear. It almost looks cute when it raises its yellow fur and waves goodbye.

I shiver and almost fall off the crab when it starts up again. I continue to work on my knots when the crab goes out of the Hungered Acre woods according to my map. I jump off the crab onto some grass surrounded by hard pavement. I dust myself off and find myself in front of several buildings. All of them tower high into the sky and seem to be abuzz with something inside.

I move to pick up my backpack when I hear a pair of hastily moving feet just behind me. I turn around and see a familiar girl running to me. "Zippy!" I shout out. She turns my way and bolts forward. "You made it!"

"I heard six cannons, thank goodness you weren't one of them...where's Jon?"

"I-I don't know. He said he'd be fine during the bloodbath but I don't think I saw him during the bloodbath at all. I'm worried."

She grows silent and holds up her bag. It's tied just like mine and she slings it over her back. "You just got a bag?"

"And whatever I had in my safari jacket," I say quietly. "These skyscrapers are a bit weird don't you think?"

"One of them says 'Litwak's arcade' and I don't like the sound of that. There's Tiana's restaurant, and uhh...what is that?"

I look at the sign to see it marked with many burn marks, warp marks, and just too many things to make the writing on the sign illegible. "Let's go into Tiana's restaurant."

 _Antoinette Vermur, 18 years old, District 2 Female_

"Looks like we've stopped in front of a small town. Weren't we in some forest awhile ago?" I ask. The other three crane their heads and look forward. I make a move to stand up just as our parade float drops into the ground. The four of us are filled with a sense of urgency and drop off the jungle themed float. I steadily get on my feet and begin stumbling forward.

"Any idea where we landed?" Nikos asks. Desmond pulls out his map and unfolds it messily. "I didn't think that I'd see a town here."

"Neither did I," Desmond comments. "Layla do you think there's-"

"The tip of a shoelace is called the aglet," she says, seemingly out of the blue. She points over to a massive electric sign that says "Aglet-Aid" over several quaint houses. There are several rows of similar houses along many more rows with many more signs. It all seems abuzz with artificial life. "Sorry, kind of zoned out. What were we looking for?"

"You might have the right idea," Desmond says. "Maybe we can find out where we are without the map. Come on." He tucks away his map and leads us all forward.

We all have a backpack between us and at least 2 weapons on hand. Lucky for me my bag had a tool belt where I could hang several knives from. While on the float the others put on similar looking belts and scabbards. It's a considerable amount of bulk. There's no career camp this year so we're going to travel with about 20 pounds each on our back.

It's already been a tiring walk through the lively yet empty neighborhood. "This is surprisingly big," I note. "Is it okay if we can split up?"

Desmond, Layla, and Nikos all pass a glance at me. Nikos has something more of a competitive eye in his line of sight and I can't understand why. "Sure. District pairs, gender pairs, or just a shuffle?" Layla asks.

"It doesn't matter, but I'd just like to go in pairs," I resign. It's eventually decided that I'm going with Layla, so gendered pairs as she stated. "Meet up in about three hours from now?"

"Sounds like as good a plan as any," Nikos says.

After our agreement I head down one road with Layla past several neatly lined houses. We check them out but they all seem to be empty. It's an awkward scene and it just seems to go on forever. "We can make camp in one of these houses if we need to."

"Sure. This...This place seems familiar. What disney theme was this?"

"I don't really know," I admit reluctantly.

"My dad….yes I know I'm talking about him right now mom...but my dad created some arena drafts. He was a bit of an artist," Layla says with a laugh. "His nickname was Jar because that's what his initials spelled- Jonah Artistic Ranevall."

"It's nice that you know about your parents."

"You don't?"

"Nothing that I want to remember really. I lost them when I was 4, but that's enough traumatic backstory for now," I say, brushing the issue off. "I'm not seeing anything here. Besides all these aglets."

"Let's find our partners then? And yes mom, I'll ask."

I nod, catching her last sentence despite her attempts to whisper.

 _Aster Mallory, 17 years old, District 7 Male_

"You patched things up really nice back there," I compliment Kimberly.

"Well thanks. My dad did teach me all that I know," she says in an almost bragging manner. "But I don't really want to fraternize you know. I don't want to leave your ally in the dust."

She quickens her pace to match Regan's stride while I fall back to continue my walk with Samuel. He's got a more lost gaze in his eyes now, and I try to snap him out of it with several claps in front of his face. Almost urgently he pulls them down and actually manages to snap out of it. "Oh man...I'm sorry Aster," he says in a light tone.

"Something's up with you."

"Duh," he says. "I heard 6 cannons. I...I took one of them. Then your partner, then that 11 girl. That's three of them. Atticus, Naomi, and Jensen are the right fit to be the others. I...I don't want Naomi to die."

"You know your sister," I say as stoically as possible. "You know that she's strong enough, right?"

"Yeah. Fat luck being a strong 12 year old does. I even grabbed a bag for her. But...But...But my mom told me not to give up hope if my sister and I are separated, so I guess I shouldn't worry?"

"No you shouldn't." He puts up a lighter tease of a smile as he fixes his backpack straps.

I don't see where I'm going and trip over a seashell. It looks like there's a whole lot of crabs on the beach. I fix my balance only to trip over another seashell and bump into Regan. "Hey," Regan says calmly. "You okay?"

"It's nothing to worry about."

"I was about to say," he says with that infectious laugh. _Is he flirting?_ "I can see the ocean from here. I know the four of us aren't technically allies, but the two of you can stay with us for a while."

"I thank you, but Sam and I are probably setting another camp," I say, with my guard going up.

"Suit yourself. I'm going to see if there's some stuff in the ocean."

He waves to Kimberly to begin setting up a camp and I look over at Samuel. "You think that she knows that I killed someone?"

"Who?"

"Naomi. And to an extent my family at home. And friends. What was that...that boy doing to us again? It feels so long ago."

"I thought he was trying to steal our stuff. I think that's what he was doing. Do you think I took things too far?"

"Hard to say. I don't think so, but weren't you training for this?"

"Training and doing are different things. Jeez and I don't even know who he was."

"He would have….he would have died anyway."

"Still hurts to talk about it," he replied bitterly. "And I can see that it hurts to talk to you about it."

"We're allies. I don't want you dead or thinking about bad shit while we still have weeks of the Hunger Games to go through," I reply, almost nonchalantly. I try to make a comforting smile that probably looks more off putting yet Samuel seems to be a bit more reassured. I take a seat in the sand and begin to rifle through our backpacks. They're lightweight, considering that we couldn't take much after the battle. "Kimberly? Is it fine if we make camp on the same beach?"

She stands up, sliding on her shirt, and stretches as she comes to us. "What was that? I couldn't hear you over there?"

"Can we just make camp on the beach together?"

"Sure. We're all careers to an extent," she says dismissively. Almost instantly she flops on the sand and waits with her legs crossed. "I don't expect for you to share food, not that I saw anything worthwhile in the bags anyway."

 _Janine Midnight, 14 years old, District 6 Female_

I've run from the bloodbath and all I have to show for it are several cards, a piece of bread, and a five cup bottle of water. This isn't going to last long. The woods begin to thicken considerably and I seem to have wandered in a jungle setting. The jungle is a maze-like part of the arena. If only I had the foresight to pull out my map from my safari vest, now I can't find head nor hair of any direction.

I decide to climb up a tree in order to get a better vantage point. Without much of an option all I can do is wrap my bag around the tree and use it as an extra grip. I'm about 25% of the way up when I hear an odd whirring noise. "What in carburation?" I murmur. Mere yards above me a massive train moves its way through the trees.

After another 10% upward, I rest myself on a tree branch and look out. There's a lot of flatland forward, probably north, and it looks to be a lot of grass. Assuming the flatlands are north at 12 o'clock then there are a couple of castles to the furthest west, one of which is surrounded by a massive lake. At about the 10 o'clock position there is an icy area that connects to a desert, for some reason. I take a closer look at the 12 o'clock section to see that there are some more buildings hidden away. Furthest east I can see what looks like either a small town or a large city. When the rule change ends I have to find my map.

I begin to climb down, waiting for a train to pass over, and begin to make my way to one of the closer buildings in this jungle like area. It's empty. I move inside and find myself in a small hut, with a bed, a chest, and a fridge. It's not much.

"Adam this seems like home huh?" I comment. Adam, Jakob, and Neve are nowhere to be found, but the living situation is similar to what most of District 6 has. Dad's work allows for a five room apartment but he always told me stories about what it was like living in a one room apartment. Adam's situation is similar, but he has 2 rooms to call home.

"I'll have to find you, right?" I comment to no one in particular. I look at the cards. There are 52 of them. One of them shows a song called "Buford is in Trouble now", another one shows "Not one of us", and another one says "At last I see the light". Behind the cards are random facts. 'The tip of a shoelace is called the Aglet.' one of them reads. "So that's what that bear wanted us to know?"

"YOU SAID IT SISTER!" I jump in fear, scattering all the cards as I find the invader. "Let me ask you now, little racer wannabe. What is the tip of a shoelace called?"

"A-A-Aglet?" I stammer.

"Oh that's great! Don't you worry Capitol Audience, Your positive District 6 female role model remains alive for yet another day!" The bear shouts to no one in particular. "Now Janine honey, don't let me catch you with your hands in your pockets of your safari vest!" The bear puts on a red shirt and transforms into a cuter thing. "Do you want a hug?"

"I'm...I'm good."

"Oh bother," the bear says, much nicer than before. "It's time for me to think-think-think so I'll see who I can pester right about now."

I pick up the cards, counting out a needed 52 cards, and take a quick step out into the tiny neighborhood. "Hey," a girl's voice calls out. I hide behind the hut and peer around the corner. "The two of us are alone for the most part. Us 12 year olds would stand a better chance together rather than separate."

"But...but our alliances…" the other 12 year old, a girl, starts to reply.

"If we meet up with them later then we can separate okay?"

The two girls move off, pretty loudly at that, crunching over several leaves and sticks. I remain hidden from their view. One of them has brown hair and the other has blond hair. They also have a couple of bags between them. They both look kind of shaken. The two of them disappear beyond the huts and I come out of the shadows, sighing since those who passed by weren't careers.

"Janine?" someone calls out to me. I turn around to find Neve, who looks very very red on her face, especially compared to her other pale skins. "Thank goodness!" she runs up, with a large bag on her hands and several knives in her other hand.

"We need to keep quiet!" I shout, trying to keep her volume down. "What happened with your face?"

"Face first into a float but I just...need to rest for a while. We might have to talk about some things though."

"I know."

 _Regan Attwater, 18 years old, District 4 Male_

I swim through the water with much more ease. The water tastes salty yes, but it also tastes a bit more airy. I don't know if that makes sense but it does to me. I look down in the water, seeing it to be much more clear than back home. I begin to dive down, diving a lot farther than I normally would, and begin to run out of breath. When my lungs start caving in I swim upward, but miss the top by 15 feet and have to open my mouth.

To my shock, I can breathe in the water! What the fuck is this?! I swim upward and catch a very relieved breath. "Kim!" I shout, coughing up some of the water. "Kim!"

She rushes to the shoreline as I paddle my way to the shore. "REgan?"

"Something's up with the water," I explain, climbing up to the shore. "Check it out for now. I need a better breather. Oh-you can breathe in the water."

She puts on a dumbfounded look and dives into the water, not bothering to take off her clothes again. I look over the water at a distant island. I feel like that it's one of the end game locations. There's something glittering in the water further west but that can wait. This Arena is complicated- _just like the games_.

I look at my right finger, fiddling with Kyle's black ring. He probably saw me lay one of the first kills of the games. He definitely did. He said he'd be watching. I wonder if my parents ever worried about killing.

They both seemed to be pretty confident in the games though, and I have to be just like them, apart from the dying and all that. It feels rough that Juniper wasn't saved. We could have made a great team. At least I killed that girl-Embray? No Ember.

Something, I don't know what, alerts me to the other alliance sharing not obvious gazes at me, and when I turn they both blush and try to talk to each other, trying not to work things up. I smile to myself, grab my shirt, and walk over to them. It'll be just like home. Kyle forgive me.

"So, Regan," Samuel speaks up.

"Whoa, Sam," I try to say in a calming tone. "Don't worry, we're friends here, you don't have to be so nervous."

He smiles calmly and relaxes his gaze. "As I was saying, we have several packs of fruit and jerky. We can swap some stuff if we find it. Uhh, yeah."

I look at Aster as he looks at me with a bit of an uneasy eye. "Trading would be fine by my accord, don't look at me," he says with a bit of a shrug. "Aren't you worried about getting burnt?"

"Nah," I say. I know he's talking about me being shirtless, but I've been used to it ever since entering the library, since being shirtless is fairly common-to my pleasure. "I can afford it. You two look like you can too. I didn't see anythign in the water worthwhile yet but Kim is looking through."

Aster and Sam share another uneasy glance but turn to me with a look of seeming contentment. "The more the merrier right?" Sam says. "I hope that she finds something."

"It's been a long day and we can jsut talk for a while. I know you're probably resting on something huh?" I lie down on the sand, taking care to flex select muscles for Samuel. I can tell Aster's looking but he's not really a target now. I guess I'll have to play this card for a while.

 _Kaney Mayes, 13 years old, District 11 Male_

"I think we should rest here. We've walked a lot," I declare. I turn to the girls and they seem to be kind of tired. We've stopped in front of a building known as Litwak's arcade.

"Maybe," Lenora asks in between breaths. "Maybe we should get inside? To get a vantage?"

"Good idea," I nod along. Valonia nods as well and the three of us enter the arcade. There's an elevator directly opposite the main entrance that we make our way towards. The arcade seems to have a lot of prizes on the first floor, all sealed behind closed glass cases. The elevator opens for us and we walk in. Valonia collapses on the floor of the elevator and looks to sort what of the bags we have.

"Why is it so complicated to operate this one?" Lenora asks in frustration. There are sixty buttons but only five of them work. The button for this floor, a button for a floor devoted to card games, a floor devoted to video games, a door open button and a floor open button.

Her hand hovers over the floor open button before I shout. "DON'T!"

She turns abruptly and nods her head. "Let's try the card games, that sounds reassuring."

The three of us are sent upwards in a fast moving elevator, knocking us flat against the floor. The elevator stops and I seem to float a bit up in the air. "I guess that's what these are for," Valonia says, holding up a velvet strap. I let out a strained laugh and press the door open button.

Card games are strewn all across the floor. There are a lot of tables and it seems like there's beds all around. I make my way to a bed and plop on it, the stress of the day catching up to me.

"Kaney?" Nia speaks up. I look up and see her resting at the foot of my bed. "Thanks for letting me on."

I try to smile but I can feel my lips quaver. I pull a pack over my eyes and just let the tears fall. Ember, Fabian, we all seem to be dying too quickly. "Hey Nia," Lenora says. "Kaney just needs to let some thigns out. I found a book that I think he'd like but I just have to win at this card game. The fish over there seems like a card counter so I need help."

"Okay," Nia says, just as tired as I am.

I close my eyes, trying to sleep, trying to keep thoughts of death out of my eyes. I have to make it back, but if I can't keep my tears out when thinking of other people dying, I don't think i can actually see death in front of me. That might have to happen.

Again I wipe my eyes on the pack, just as that stupid bear's voice speaks up.

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **Sorry for the wait on the Chapter. It's also taking me a while to update my other fanfiction since that's another Quarter Quell portion there. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. We have 20 people left alive and that number will only dwindle. I'm not sure that we'll actually be able to get every single living character every single day but I'll do my best. I hope you all liked this chapter since we have a fair bit of character interactions and development. I hope it really all went down nice. Next chapter we have the second rule period and the depiction of the fallen tributes.**

 **Sponsor Questions will now be worth a little less than they were because of rampant inflation:**

 **1) What is Nidawi's main difficulty with opening her backpack? (1 point)**

 **2) What does JAR stand for? (1 point)**

 **3) What does Aster trip over? (1 point)**

 **4) How many cards is Janine in possession of? (1 point)**

 **5) By How much does Regan miss the top of the water? (1 point)**

 **6) What percentage of buttons work? (2 points)**

 **Bonus: What is an aglet?**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	33. The Second Ruling Period (Night 1)

_**Night 1 (second ruling period-6:00 PM- 7:00 AM)**_

 _Nikos Marbello, District 1 Male, 18 years old_

 _6:05-6:45, Tri-State Area_

Floor after floor of this pretty big building and Desmond and I have found nothing of note. The two of us find a box on the third available floor. I'm on guard when Desmond flings the box flaps open but like every other box there's nothing but air. "Is there anything worthwhile here?!" I scream in frustration.

"Oh bucky buck-buckaroo," I hear an annoying voice turn out. I swipe my dagger in fear and it makes contact with some metal. "Oh you son of a bitch happy witch!" The adorably evil mutt looks at me and begins shaking its paw. "NEXT TIME I'M PUTTING A RULE AGAINST HARMING OF MUTTS, **EVEN THE PEACEFUL ONES AND EVEN THE ACCIDENTAL HARMINGS!** **!** "

"Well I'm sorry, princess," I say, calming down. Desmond gets behind me and places a tightening hand on my shoulder. He's stronger than his size suggests so by the time he takes it away I suspect he leaves a big bruise.

"Bah, I can't kill you now. But you realize that 1/20 people cite you as their least favorite tribute."

"That doesn't mean anything when there are only 20 tributes alive in the arena, right?" Desmond speaks up, trying to speak in my defense.

"No," the bear pouts. "You know you're lucky that I left my rules 5 minutes ago and you guys are unaffected by this. Next time around I will put this set of rules in."

"Pardon?" Desmond speaks.

"Yes I did leave the rules," the bear says. "From 6 o'clock tonight to 6 o'clock in the morning you will not be able to use weapons where the sharp or bladed parts are longer than your forearms, you may not touch other tributes by the hair, it will be illegal to eat any meat products for the next 12 hours, and the old town will be closed off. The previous rules will be null and void and after tomorrow the rest of my mutt friends will be active. Now get out of my sight before I do something that makes you regret it!"

Desmond and I glance at each other as the bear turns even more menacing and flashes its sharp claws that it brandishes. He pulls me into an open elevator and it rises just as we hear it's insane laughter turn gentler and gentler. "You seemed a bit trigger happy there. I daresay that you happened to be in a havoc. Some might say a trigger happy havoc."

"And here I thought you were just a no nonsense sort of dude," I reply with a roll of my eyes.

"That wasn't a joke. I was simply trying to be as polite as possible. Nikos, you just seem to be getting all the more paranoid with events transpiring now-a-days."

"So that you can ridicule me for not making kills as easily as you can?"

"Nikos," Desmond says, his voice getting stern. "I can kill but as I've learned, I still have emotions attached to my kills. It's not as easy as you think."

I turn my head to the wall as I slump down. This is a tall building known as the Doofiddleshmutz E-il In. I didn't get to see much of the screen.

 _You're still stronger than he would ever be,_ I can almost hear Jasper reply. I look up and see the lights flickering in and out of brightness. I should apologize to Desmond sometime. I was a bit brash, or maybe he was a bit too harsh? I don't really know. I guess I have to make nice to him.

 _Kimberly McAuckswatch, District 4 Female, 16 years old_

 _6:30-7:45_

I reemerge from the water for what is hopefully the last time. I've been combing the floor some three hundred feet below and Regan was right. What in the name of the hudson Bay is this water? Right now the problem isn't breathing but the mere sense of exhaustion begins to creep up just as I rest for a bit on a rock some three dozen feet below the water. There are fish but most of them are some dark small mass, not like the colors I see in the outer limits of District 4.

My stomach begins to rumble at an inopportune time and I make the remaining 36 feet up and take another rest. It may have been easy to breathe but the pressure was still prevalent. I struggle on the shore and see that my camp is now joined up with the outer careers. I shake myself dryer and walk forward, trying to put a smile on my face, and collapse just next to a pile of backpacks. "Hey Kim," Regan says in that flirtatious tone.

"Hi Regan," I say considerably more tired.

I make a move to the backpack when the taller of the two other boys, either Aster, Asteros, or Alexis, stops me. "I guess you didn't hear the rules down in the water huh? We put all the rule breaking materials in there," he explains.

"What are the rules? Wait-I can still ask about the rules, right? I'm not going to get shot at by a giant flaming pinwheel am I?"

"DON'T YOU WORRY SISTER!" I hear a shrill voice behind me. I reflexively pelt the voice's owner with my backpack and the four of us hear the bear mutt tumble to the ground. "OH FUCKING DAMMIT! Like I said to that brown haired idiot in the Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated building I will not punish you for that but mark my words the rules will come up! You aren't breaking the rules by asking questions yet!"

With an odd look in my eyes the bear throws up some sand and buries itself in the little beach. I shudder and turn back. "What are the rules?"

"No meat products, no touching other tribute's hair, no weapons with blades longer than forearms, and we can't enter old town," Aster says. The conversation dies down and I take a bite out of a piece of mussel that we scavenged. I wait for my punishment but it doesn't come yet. "I guess fish are safe."

"They aren't technically fish," I say. "Bivalves." Awkward silence comes just in time for my stomach to rumble loudly.

"You should really have some more," REgan tells me.

"I want to make this last."

"You know as well as I do that bivalves don't get to last all that long without cooling. Even if we save it what happens if the rules tomorrow say we can't eat them?" Regan says. He's getting a little more stern so I take another bite out of one more before turning the bag to Samuel-or Aster. I'm not good with names so I don't quite tell them apart well.

"I...I already ate," he says dejectedly. I'm fairly sure it was him who choked the boy from District 3, Fray or something, and depression does not look good on him. His ally, who I am certain is Aster, gives him a slice of bread, which he takes dejectedly.

There's not much talking for the night until Aster decides to comb the area. The three of us watch him go and continue to reflect in silence. I hope something else happens.

 _Zippina Cayen, District 3 Female, 16 years old_

 _7:50-8:45_

After a long, long day of running, the two of us finally collapse into a pair of chairs surrounding a small wooden table. Nidawi rests her head in her hands and I lean back in the chair, hearing the boards creak beneath me. An odd tidbit runs across my head- 'No matter how fast your saw spins it will always be too slow to cut wood properly'.

I begin to rummage through my small backpack and find that it has a pocket of 13 cards. I turn one over and read it aloud. "Why is Gamora?"

"Because she's better than all yall broke ass hates. Gamora rich and finna get richer!" Nidawi says almost automatically.

I laugh loudly and flip through three more cards, telling me that the tip of a shoelace is an aglet, the final admonition requires that you fill your duties calmly and respectfully while fletin before you act in order to bring you honor and glory, and that the original name for a giant mouse named Mickey was originally Mortimer.

I set aside the other 9 cards for later. There are three water bottles, one small one of about 125 milliliters, a medium one of 500 milliliters, and large one of 2000 milliliters. There's a pair of...rubber? Packed in small square inch packages of plastic? It's not important, and underneath that is a ten pack of dried oranges. Just as I pull it out, Nidawi and I's stomachs begin to rumble. "What do you have Nidawi?" I ask.

She holds up her dark mahogany bag and dumps the contents, having been removing the knots while walking. Three whole apples fall out, a half dozen bagels, and three yards of bacon are wrapped around it. A giant water bottle of some 6400 milliliters. Other than that she has a bra band, a shirt, a crown, a divided container, three bandages, and several flowers of different colors.

"We have a lot of bacon. We should be good for tomorrow," Nidawi notes.

"Do you want to take six inches a day, each? Tomorrow?" She nods in response and quietly measures out two even pieces before she stores them in the container. I offer up one half of a single piece of dried fruit to her but she lets me have it, instead opting to slice off a quarter of one of her bagels.

Our small dinner is interrupted with a familiar anthem, Panem's Horn of Plenty. I run forward to the window to see the fallen displayed on the ceiling and many areas. The music begins to swell as the words "the fallen" fade out of existence and Nidawi joins me hastily.

"Fab?" I cry out incredulously. Instantly a lump in my stomach begins to well and that single dried fruit seems to be coming back up. Over his name and District designation Fabian's full lips and prominent grey eyes cast a grim shadow over the arena. I can still see a hint of his well hidden anger on his face. His hair is kept handsome and my last sight of him begins to fade away.

I catch my breath, swallow my fruit again, but it almost immediately comes up again when we see Jon on the screen. Nidawi lets out a loud choke and almost slides down the window. I push her up again and she leans heavily against my trembling shoulder. His light tanned skin and wide cheekbones carry a sense of sadness as he tries to put on a smile. Then he fades away.

Next up is the District 7 girl, the bubbly but sad girl, carrying some kind of whimsy still in her eyes and absurdly platinum blond hair. Her blue eyes carry little more than was already said. Then the boy from District 8, who looks like a phantom or something, looks almost complacent in the fact that he's...dead. I didn't catch much of him and he seemed like a know it all but he must have been better at home.

Up next is a girl I'm surprised to see. Ember. Her angry glare showers down on the arena, her dark brown skin shining from many of the arena's own lighting while her hair almost seems to show some kind of anger or frustration behind her, but her loose jaw shows some semblance of caring for all of us. Finally, the skinny quirky guy from District 12, the one who started the food fight, shows up, and he looks just as insane as he did in real life, but just before he fades I think I catch a bit of complacency in his eyes.

Nidawi hasn't gotten up by the time the nightly roll call finishes. She sits on the ground, in front of the window, eyes covering her faces. "I should have been there," I hear her say through muffled sobs. There's not much more that I can do put to squeeze her shoulder. It's a silent night of reflection for the both of us.

 _Samuel Palmer, 18 years old, District 9 Male_

 _8:30-9:55_

"She's alive." The words escape my mouth quietly and I finally begin to relax after a particularly tense day overall. Horn of Plenty's final notes blare through the arena as I rest my head on Aster's shoulder before backing off. I look at him and crack a smile.

"It's fine," he says, nonchalantly turning a piece of kindling for our fire. "Sam and I can set up our shelter right across from you guys if that's alright with-"

His words are cut off with another set of loud, gaudy music, and the four of us abruptly turn our heads to the source, blinded by the lights from what looks like another parade. The head of the caravan doesn't turn to our direction so we're safe.

Four parachutes fall down towards each of us and I make a grab for an orange colored one. It's a small cylinder that fits in both of my hands snugly. I open the tube to find three cards with 2 facts on them. I also have a half dozen matches of lime green, maroon, dark blue, pink, I think cornflower blue, and orange. As of late each district has been identified as a color and District 9's is orange.

Our fire dims lower just as the parade seems to fade in the Distance. I decide to keep the container in my bag in order to sort out stuff if it ever gets too much. My mood is definitely much better but the fact of the matter remains that Naomi is probably on the other half of the island.

Aster motions for me to follow him but I trip over a mussel shell. I stumble forward and barely stop with my hands out just before I bump into Regan. The light reflects off of his body, wet with either sweat or water-probably the sea water considering that he has a large fish in his hands. "You okay Sam?" he asks in concern. He makes an effort to move around me, bending down to wrap the fish in a blanket. "I have to make do. Something tells me this fish won't last long."

"That sounds fishy I guess," I say absentmindedly, staring at his nicely shaped butt.

"That's the latest pun I've heard and the only thing that I'd say is good about it is that you didn't laugh," Regan says with a half-joke. "I couldn't help but see that you and Aster were quite...shaken during the roll call."

I nod sadly. "I'm better now though, but...seeing that boy in the sky...what was his name?"

"Well Aster told me he tried to steal from you guys. If he's an unworthy thief then maybe it's better he's dead," Regan says all too optimistically. Somehow it works. "You worked hard for those supplies, look pretty strong carrying all of them. Use those biceps to carry grain?"

"Yeah, I guess," I dismiss quietly.

"Hey," he says, getting kind of close. "If you think I'm manipulating you, don't worry. I'm a man of my word and I promised to not harm you nor your District partner, okay? Can you trust me on that front?" He pushes his hair back, like he did several times during training, and well...I can't quite say no.

"Of course," I say, confidently. I pass him a smile that he passes with an honest to goodness blush. If only it were that easy to make guys blush like that back home.

He heads off to his shelter, separate from Kimberly, and I continue my route into mine and Aster's shared shelter. He looks up quizzically before turning back to something he has in his hands. I sit several feet apart from him as he continues scratching something out. "The rules don't show a pattern right now I'd say," I hear him speak up.

Aster tosses me the piece of paper he's been working with, and the pencil he has had in his hands goes back into his safari jacket. I'm hard pressed to consider what's on the paper as legible words and he takes it back. "I didn't see any pattern I saw...except that District 3 kid…"

"Sam, I think it's best that you take an early night. I'll take the first watch." I try to object but he's already grabbed a bag, a piece of paper, and something hard to write on. He pops a piece of fruit in his mouth and waves me off, leaving me alone in the relative darkness of our shelter.

Naomi's alive. I'm alive. That boy isn't. Aster's alive. Regan's alive. The boy isn't. Juniper isn't. The dark girl from District 11. Kimberly's alive. I'm alive.

It doesn't sink in even when I sleep.

 _Valonia Kalene, 12 years old, District 10 Female_

 _9:50-10:43_

I finish my last slice of bread just as the parade passes by. First the nightly roll call and now another parade to contend with? It looked pretty scary too. All the neon lights and all the weird glows and the melody that seemed to be too noisy. "Good thing we aren't on the route," Kaney, the dark skinned boy from District 11 says quietly. The parade disappears in the night and we retreat into the skyscraper.

"It would be nice if we had a bit of an advanced warning of the rules so that way we don't wake up in a forbidden area," Lenora laments.

"I WOULDN'T COUNT ON THAT SWEETIE!" We turn around to see the black and white bear mutt walking to us. "The rules will now come at 6:00 AM and at 6:00 PM, so everyone can experience 12 hours of suffering depending on the location they're in! So you better stay up until 6:00!"

The bear disappears with a flash and it is place is a stuffed animal, a yellow bear of a honey tone under a barely fitting red shirt. I blink and the bear is gone. "Good thing we had that clarified," I say. "Should we sleep in shifts?"

"That sounds like a good idea," Kaney chimes in. "I can go first."

"I was about to offer," Lenora says immediately after.

"I mean it was my idea…" I say quietly. The three of us look at each other and break out into giggles before we all just sit in a circle. "It was my idea, I was serious about that," I try to say.

"If you insist then who am I to deny?" Lenora speaks up. She begins pulling out a blanket from her backpack and holds the bottom of it up to let the rest fall down. I take a look at Kaney and he shrugs, the smile on his face replaced with a neutral expression. A screen on the left is playing some kind of cartoon that he immediately takes a shine to.

"I want to check that out," he says tiredly. At that statement he grabs his bags and drags them over to a chair that he begins to recline in. "I don't want you to stay awake for too long. Call me after like...one or two hours."

I see him curl up and before I know it I'm basically alone. I decide to turn around to face the elevator. I wonder where the others are.

I begin to think a lot. I think that I'll be thinking a lot.

So…

We have all the careers alive. That's not good. Atticus is alive. The girl from District 3, the girl from District 5, obviously me, Kaney, and Lenora. I think we also have the boy from District 12 dead, which means the girl is alive.

Its too much to think.

I look through my bag and try to find something of note. Like the first couple of times that I've looked through this, there's nothing new that I have seen. Besides meat. I really want a bite right now.

An aroma of some thick juicy steak comes from some other room on this floor and I impulsively move towards it. Back in the old days when...when dad was good..he used to make steak extra rare. I'd try a bit and it was very very good. I like a rare steak rather than a well done steak. My dad and mom both said that a well done steak was anything but. It was ruined.

I find myself walking to a door somewhere in the floor. The smell wafts through it and seems to call me. Tilden used to make it like that back home. That was really good when all was great. I am about to open the door when I remember that I can't have meat.

It makes me pained. These stupid rules. I wish that I could break the rules like I did back home. My hand still hovers over the door to the smell and I pull it away with a pained sigh. I roll over and try my best to ignore the tempting smell. Yeah.

I find that I'm only several feet away from my original perch. I can even crawl over even if I need to. I can dream about my life at home over there. Tilden, Mom, Percy, Fleur, Caspian, Mardon, Denica, I hope I didn't give you any major heart attacks. If one of you guys has to die it has to be after me though.

I won't be able to handle heartache.

 _Jakob Torser, 16 years old, District 13 Male_

 _10:50-12:05_

What am I supposed to do for many hours in the darkness? Me, Adam, and the boy from District 10, Atticus I think, have a fire going but we aren't anywhere good. The parade route took us to some kind of lake, and in the distance I see a castle. There are little lights rising up gentler than any explosives we've made in District 13. It's curious.

I pull out a knife that I've gotten from my bag and hold it between my fingers. There was something that Albany taught me to do with this knife, but when I try doing it I wind up with a small slice on my fingers. It's just a small sting but I have to use one of my bandages to cover it up.

The night sky still remains as dark as ever once those little lights go away. The grass begins to rustle before it seems to sway to a standstill. This map isn't illuminated so I can't have any chance of triangulating where we are.

I drop my bag on the ground a bit too loudly and Adam begins to stir. "Sorry," I say quietly.

"I was about to get up anyway," he says. "Night owl or no we still need to sleep evenly. Equal strength, huh?"

"Sound logic I suppose." He tries to goad me out of my seat to take the place yet I try my best not to move. He settles on sitting next to me. "I was going to wake you up after an hour."

"Well I woke up now, and if you want to stick with me for an hour then go ahead," he says in a competitive tone. I roll my eyes but fix myself to face him. "You look awake though."

"Yeah." The two of us cast a glance at Atticus, who seems to be the youngest one of us, and probably the most unstable, and the biggest variable. "I'm not looking forward to killing him."

"Who said we were gonna do that?"

"I saw you looking at him, unless you were staring at that butt. I consider myself a good reader of expression."

"In what light?" he says quizzically. "You have a better butt anyway."

"Should see some of the folks back home." I snort. "I really...really don't want to kill. It's easier looking at dead bodies when they're already dead."

"Not even gonna ask. Though I've seen a whole lot of shit from high people."

"Drugs aren't common in 13, at least the illegal kind, so entertain me, I'll sleep in an hour heh."

He flashes a small smile and cracks his knuckles, putting his hands behind his head and reclines. I think he's about to fall asleep before he tells me about a recent customer that he had to outmuscle. "So this fuckface tries to throw his hit into the sea of people and it hits a peacekeeper. The customer tries to blame it on me but good old Garry had to step in. Good Old Garry."

"Must be nice having a guy friend."

"You don't have many back home?"

"Surprised? I connect more with girls in any case. Albany's my best friend and she took me to this newly constructed roof, and she almost fell into a pit of concrete that was three inches below her. Boy she looked as pale as some of the people from District 3." I stifle a yawn and Adam puts on a concerned mask. "I guess I'll take that nap now huh?"

"Go ahead, though a nap won't justify for long."

"I'm not sleeping for long," I scoff. He shrugs and begins to stare off somewhere. I hear his sigh punctuate the night as I grab my sleeping bag, bag, and other stuff. With a sigh I recline. I hope Albany won't be too mad at me.

I hope I didn't reveal too much yet again.

 _Naomi Palmer, 12 years old, District 9 Female_

 _11:59-12:45_

 _The night tonight fades into a dark blue ocean. I feel like swimming, swimming, swimming. The water isn't good. I can't breathe. There are animals in the water that want to kill me. There are tributes above water that want to kill me. I don't-No I can't-I can't move! I can't breathe! The animals are getting closer. The water pressure is sinking up. Dad's holding his hand out to me, to choke me or to save me._

"Naomi-Naomi-" I shoot up, hearing my ally for now calling my name as she leans on my shoulder. "It's 12:20 right now, I found a watch in my backpack. Are you ok?"

It's all I can do to hide the tears. I open my eyes to a blurry forest and grassland in front of me. "I'm alright...well now I am," I say.

"Oh," Naette says. "Now that you're up is there anything we should discuss?"

"My brother is alive and your partner is uh...dead... I had a nightmare, you didn't see anything worthwhile enough to wake me up...and I'm still kind of hungry and i want meat."

"Thing is," Naette starts. "I just smelled some meat cooking. It smelled like pork. My brother just got a job at the butchers a couple of weeks ago, and now I know what it smells like. I really like pork."

"I like pork too," I say with a sad sigh. "My brother was always a bigger fan of chicken, my older brother a fan of lamb, my father loved rabbits, and my oldest brother just liked beef. My mom doesn't like meat but she cooks and eats what we want."

"We ate pork the most when my brother brought it back," she wistfully notes. "I don't know why people were cooking meat here."

"Huh." A light turns on in the distance, surrounded by several small homes. "Do you think that that village over there has something?"

Naette presumably squints to follow the direction I'm pointing in. She stifles a yawn and nods. "Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow. Hey are you going to sleep sometime soon?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I caught the yawn. I'll pull out my slingshot and be at the ready for a couple of hours and then I can wake you up?"

"Good plan." She waves me a goodnight and pulls out her sleeping bag, rolling up and lining a row of food from her bag in order to create something of a barrier.

I pick up my slingshot and roll one of the pellets in it. I count them off, feeling that I have three large ones with five small ones. They all roll in my hands so I think that they are like balls. Though that isn't saying much when I've seen balls that look like...look like… what was that name again?

Jgen told me this...I think it was a prolate spheroid.

Hehe.

I wonder if Jgen and her friends are talking bad about me. She told me that she had a big problem with some of her friends but my name usually isn't out of her mouth. She might laugh about how I had a nightmare or defend me. I think that she'd defend me. I like her. She's a good friend. She taught me a lot.

Lillia though. She's a nicer and more common friend at times. I wonder how she is. Maybe she's training? She had a crush on Samuel before I told her he was gay haha. I begin to worry about the rest of my friends and my family. But they'll be waiting, unless dad screws something up and gets put in jail or something, I hope dad improves in time for us to get home.

Well...that's another big if…

 _Layla Ranevall, District 1 Female, 18 years old_

 _12:55-1:35_

"Hey, Hey," I prod An. "Antoinette." She gets up and wipes her eyes with an uneasy glance. "It's your shift now."

She sits up smoothly and rolls her neck. "Jeez Layla, you look kind of haggard."

"I'm just going to make it so that means beautiful in the context of the arena," I chuckle, trying to keep my voice low. "I know what it means, I'm not a dumb blond."

"Like any of the other girls from District 1 before?"

"Oh you," I say chidingly. "You know it's only the smartest of the smart who can get in the arena in the first place. These boobs don't really provide any protection but they are good at distracting people."

"Heh, it was a nice pair to wake up to," Antoinette says. "A lot of girls back home wouldn't complain if they had a frame like yours. Of course they'd focus on how you can use it to kill."

"What's the term? Ladykiller? I can be that you know," I say, trying to flirt,but the snort escaping my mouth preventing me. She laughs also and sets up her place right next to me. "I'll just be up for a bit, need those two guys to kind of be well rested. They know more about the arena and they can tell us."

"I really don't see a theme in this arena here," she says after an uncomfortable pause. "The thing with the aglets, a small town, a forest, a river, those parades, what the fuck is this arena?" I shrug, focusing in the darkness of the roads taht we sit in front of. "Hey, you were talkative a while ago, what's up now?"

"Sometimes it's like this," I bemoan. "I like talking but I like thinking but I do it too much and I'm either tired of talking, tired of thinking, or tired of being sane. Maybe if I had parents like your's I'd turn out just as sane and as stable as you."

"I'm flattered but I'm actually an orphan," I catch the sense of disappointment in their voices. "I really wish I could picture their words of assurance like your can easily do. My dad nearly drunk us out of the house. He was a violent bastard but really loved hugging and kissing and dancing and doing everything with mom. He was mute for a couple of years, so I never heard his voice. My mom never was one to talk either, and they loved each other despite my dad's rampant alcoholism. Bar fights are killer, and honestly, they both died from the same fight."

"Sorry to hear you had to go through that," I say as genuinely as possible. "Any death would have been more honorable than that."

"I can't let it get to me, like you don't let your parents' death get to you."

 _You should date her. Well, you could have dated her if she was in our district, a nice honorable daughter-in-law,_ I hear mom say. I look out in the distance and see their apparitions, holding a pristine dress that I'd always love to wear. The District 12 rebel tries to take it but...little me kills them. I don't know how old I am but I kill them.

Him and my parents.

I shake my head viciously, and try my best to curl up against the tree. "I'm not blocking sight if I sleep right here, am I?"

"No, No," Antoinette reassures. "I'll wake up Nikos when my shift ends so don't be surprised if you wake up next to one of the guys."

I close my eyes with a faint nod. I feel tired but sleep doesn't come easily.

I'm a loyalist, sleep should come easily for me, especially in an arena meant to punish rebellious fucks.

Those rebels better watch out.

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **After a long time, I finally update it. Sorry for the long wait, I really tried my best to get it out but school and college and growing up all sucks. So this chapter came out perspective so that's why it might seem chunky, but I really hope that the quality holds up and that you all like it. I'll be updating hopefully at a much quicker pace with the "part 2" of this chapter, where we see some relatives. I'm not too sure about pacing the deaths but we have 20 tributes to look at over the characters.**

 **Sponsor Questions:**

 **1) What does Nikos use to hit Mono-Pooh-ma? (1 point)**

 **2) What does Kimberly use to hit Mono-Pooh-Mah? (1 point)**

 **3) How many cards does Zippina set aside? (1 point)**

 **4) Why are the matches colored? (1 point)**

 **5) How long will the rule periods last? (1 point)**

 **6) Where did Albany fall? (1 point)**

 **7) What shape does Naomi describe? (1 point)**

 **8) Who kills Layla's parents in Layla's hallucination? (1 point)**

 **Next chapter expect a revisit to some people from our tributes personal lives.**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	34. The First Games Interlude

_**Interlude 1:**_

 _Yusef Jozka, 13 years old, Jon Cheris' (26th) best friend_

 _Mandatory viewing night 1, District 5_

They show his death many, many, many times on the big screen. Stabbed by that District 2 boy on that forsaken float. I don't think that I can look at water the same ever again. Of our group, it's me, Alaina, Hans, and Delancy up here with his two parents. Artair is hugging some of his friends about their main friend Nidawi surviving.

I...I'm glad that Nidawi survived but did Jon have to die? He seemed so sure of himself, so cool, so great, so...so cute.

I pull out my cards and begin shuffling them. I should have given him my joker. I rarely even use it and he likes looking at some of those designs. I bet that he could have started a fire with these cards. Then there's motion that makes me and Delancy look just below us. A reporter comes down and asks for some answered questions.

I look to Delancy and the two of us take a gentle walk. "You two are his friends right? So can you tell us what it's like hanging out with a loser like him?"  
"He's not a loser!" I say frustrated. I storm off and leave Delancy with the bumbling reporter. I take my cards and shove them in my pocket.

"Excuse me," I hear a low voice call to me. "You're Jon's best friend, right?"  
"Yeah sir," I say. "And you're his dad?"

"Yes," Mister Cheris says. "I know you're really attached to my son. Some may even call it love. I call it that," he says with a low chuckle. I blush. "I don't want to make you embarrassed but I want vengeance. I've always been wanting vengeance. And you want it too, right?"

I nod. "See son," Mister cheris continues. "There are more people who want vengeance. And you and your little group of friends could help us well. We need people to investigate old tunnels where wires were. It's dangerous but the ultimate pay will be our freedom. Do you accept?"

I open my mouth to say yes but he shushes me. "If you do, just show up at my backdoor once the Hunger Games finishes. For the record, if my son reciprocated your feelings, I would have loved to have you as a son-in-law."

 _Telia Soot, 5 years old, Erudite Soot's (25th) sister_

 _Mandatory viewing night 1, District 12_

"He's…" I start to say. The last photo of my big brother appears on screen for a long time and it's intercut with an image of me. I see the camera zooming in on my face before I bury myself into my mom's old dusty dress.

"It'll be better okay" mom says in a broken voice. My uncle and Aunt move over and begin talking to mom. I feel her move and talk. It suddenly becomes a bit quieter and a lot of the brightness seems to go away and my mom tries to guide me away.

The walk home is uneventful. The people don't want to see District 12 so there are no cameras. I wonder if it's because they know we're ugly. Mom and Uncle and Aunty talk to each other a lot when we stop in front of our house. I see a bright light in the distance. It's a small light but it's bright.

I move to it, thinking of how Erudite told me to follow fairy lights because they'd lead me to the underground castle. I'm too young to break the fourth wall so I don't know what fairy lights mean. Something tells me they are willow wisps.

The small fairy light blinks in the darkness before flying away. Erudite wanted me to follow it.

So I could escape. Maybe it's like a firefly. I would not believe my eyes. There could be ten thousands of them. I wipe my eyes and blink again. The fireflies are gone but there are still lights along the floor, each light giving me a hug.

I walk again. Mom and uncle and Aunty are nowhere in sight. I don't know how….serendipitous...it was that I made it here but it might be...supercalifrailisticexpialidocious.

 _Calico Rayner, 15 years old, Fabian Drason's (24th) friend_

 _Mandatory viewing night 1, District 3_

I clench my fists tightly, fingernails digging far into my skin, causing blood to leak. A reporter notices and gives me a napkin before shooing me away. She moves to talk to his crying parents and shoves a microphone in their faces. I pull out a small sketch of Fabian that I was to give him for his next birthday, three months after this date. It's not perfect but it could have been something.

It's only about three blocks away from the town center when I have to stop to take a breath. Home is still some dozen blocks away. I can walk it. But it seems shorter with Fabian at my side.

I put my head down, tuck the sketch in my shirt, and walk with my hands in my pocket. The District is always much quieter when our tributes die. Most of the hums of the thousands if not millions of machines in the District punctuate the night due to running automatically. I look up as I reach every street corner, recalling me and Fabian walking down the streets virtually every day.

"Now that he's gone we're free to talk, aren't we?"

I turn around and see Jordan, leaning against the doorway as a lecherous light casts down upon him. "Leave me alone," I say boldly, beginning to tremble.

"Come on," Jordan says. "That faggot's gone now huh? He was the only thing keeping me-keeping _us_ together dear."

"I'm not gonna be with you," I say again, trying to turn away. He walks up abruptly, sweeping his arm around the small of my back and tries to lean in for a kiss. I shove him off of me and try to storm away, keeping the tears off of me.

"You know you want me," he says darkly. He's a fast walker and catches up to me quickly. I still remember that day.

Memories of that day are what forces me to push him as he walks up to me. It happens in a blur. He loses his balance, he hits a lantern, the lantern falls and burns him, the fire spreads, and he's immolated. I throw up. It's gross. I run away. I can't look back again.

 _Ash Elmswood, 17 years old, Juniper Aspen's (23rd) Acquaintance_

 _Mandatory viewing night 1, District 7_

"That's all we have to say. There's nothing more," Juniper's father says with a grim tone. The reporters surrounding him just keep pressing forward and forward and he shoves one of them away, causing some of the peacekeepers to get involved. His wife stands off but tries to move forward.

"Hey," I say with a stern tone. "If you're going to arrest anyone arrest those asshole interviews. They were the ones who drove him to push one of them." One of the peacekeepers trying to diffuse the situation casts a disinterested glare and moves off, but the other one moves to question three of the interviewers. "Mr. Aspens, I wanted to-"

"I know you," he says coldly. From what I remember of the man he's shorter than what I remember, and he had a much bubblier deportment than what he has right now. "Juniper is dead and aren't you and your girlfriend going to tell me how bad she was?"

"No sir I was just going to-"

"Can it," he says bluntly. "My daughter is gone. She was training with you yet you pushed her away when she tried to make friends. She got pushed out because of you and your little girlfriend. Bullying stings, and it was all I could do to comfort her."

"Sir, I'm sorry but-"

His wife steps in and holds her hand up to me. "Please, we just want to heal, and we shouldn't open healed wounds. I don't want to see you again." She and her husband walk off to the orphanage. I push my hands together and sigh, walking back to Kara as she sits awkwardly on the steps of her parent's store.

"How...How were they?" she asks feebly.

"Why don't you find out yourself?" I say bitterly.

She doesn't reply for a while, leaning on my shoulder as I do nothing to stop her. "I'm sorry for what i did to her."

"I'm sorry I strung myself along," I scoff.

"Babe?"

"You're really manipulative. I can't believe it took me this long to finally tell you how much you fucking suck," I almost laugh. "I was talking to my friend the other day and he said that you actually were teasing me and him before we started dating, huh?"

"Well, Jull was always a liar."

"How did you know it was Jull? Kara, being a bitch isn't going to help you. IF it takes the death of one of your victims then I can't be with you. Kara… I know you had a crush on Juniper. That's why you teased her." I huff and push her off of me. "We're through."

She sits awkwardly as I stand up. I find the truck to the academy and sit on it, relieved at the weight I lost.

 _Thorn Hayfield, 17 years old, Ember Hayfield's (22nd) Brother_

 _Mandatory viewing night 1, District 11_

"Thorn? Thorn? You're gripping me a bit hard," Durian tells me nervously. I look down to see my knuckles going white and his fingers getting rather red.

"Sorry dear," I say, choked up and swallowing a lump. "It's just-"

"You don't have to say anything more," he says. He's got a deal with his mom to stay with me and the family at the store for the Hunger Games so long as he makes a bit more than usual. When we head up to our house I make sure to open up the back door while he holds my hand, gently.

We get to the table and I slam my hand roughly on the table as the tears begin to fall again. He wraps his arms around me and holds me tightly. "I feel useless," I moan.

"You couldn't have told her otherwise. You and I know that. Thorn, don't beat yourself up please."

"I told her...I told her to play the villain. I told her to be an antagonist, and she angered the careers, it was too much. She had allies but she...she didn't think about them," I say between heaving breaths. "Durian...please...please don't leave."

He remains at my back, strongly wrapping around my shoulders and kissing my temples. "She wouldn't have had to kill. It wasn't your fault. It was...It was the capitol right?"

I breathe heavily and manage to nod tiredly. "I really hate those fuckers. This...this has gone on too long. A century and a half of hunger games and...Fuck!" I slam the table loudly and begin to breathe even harder. "We need to have more meetings, send...send...send more people and more supplies to the out district folk. It's a better life that what we have here."

I push my chair out a little bit, let him sit on my lap, and just bury my face in his strong shoulders. "Rebellion is coming, and I want to see Panem burn," he says.

"I'll be with you."

 _Carly Allard, 32 years old, Jensen Allard's (21st) Mother_

 _Mandatory viewing night 1, District 8_

Long after the crowds have gone, long after the peacekeepers have herded many of the rowdy people from the night, I finally begin the walk home. I wipe my eyes every couple of steps. The last...the last part of my life, just...gone. Killed in a battle with that asshole from District one. _Jensen. Jensen. Jensen. Jensen. I don't want to forget his name. I dont' want to forget his name I don't-_

The madness of my thoguhts ends when my hand is five inches from the door to open the apartment buidling. I hear footsteps behind me. Could it be Jensen's father? The abstard who ruined me? The one who made me unable to care for his bastard?

No.

"Hi," a girl says. She's not much older than Jensen, and she has some bags with her. "I was...I was waiting for you," she says quietly. "My name is Jasinta. Jensen was my second best friend and-"

It's all I need to hear. I hug her tightly as she drops what's in her bags. "He has friends…"

"Well it's..it's really just me and Hector who are friend wit him but-"

"He had friends," I say with a smile on my face.

She looks at me with a smile and picks up the bag. "My dad is willing to give you a job. Just as a cleaning lady. He works in a small...small gorcery store. He can pay you in packages for a while and then give you money."

"I'll...I'll meet him tomorrow," I say. "Thank you for being a friend." She walks off.

The door behind me opens. I look around fearfully. It's...it's the doorman and the owner of the apartment building with his...his daughter of five years. "Ms. Allard," he, Qwentin, says with that warm, welcoming tone. "Congratulations on your new job. I'm...I'm sorry about your loss."

I freeze up with the bag of groceries in my hand. "Hey, let me help you take that up," he says, offering a small smile. He's dressed in more casual clothing, just a white t-shirt that fits him kind of tightly. "I have to let you go though, but...I can always help out with your apartment." His little girl...Zelda...touches the buttons to the elevator and takes us up. "I'm always willing to help. You uhh, no offense, you look like you need it."

I offer another genuine smile to him. He reciprocates. He smiles. Just like...Just like Jensen used to.

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **When I said I'll be updating quickly I guess I meant it! This chapter is where eulogies are going to be in the notes, so without further ado...**

 **26th- Jon Cheris; Golden Moon Huntress left three great characters and unfortunately I had to kill off one of them. I see a lot of myself in Jon, but he made an excellent first death. He had an easily resolvable plot for the beginning and I can see him propelling his allies to a lot of growth, and that's what I wanted out of first kills, characters who could grow others. Thank you Golden Moon Huntress.**

 **25th- Erudite Soot; SparkALeah, thank you for such a fun character to write. I was able to step into a comedy zone with him and he became a hit with the viewers. Unfortunately he was kind of obvious, but Telia is off in a different, better place now, and it's thanks to the mentor-ship of her bigger rebeller brother. I loved writing Erudite but it was his time to go.**

 **24th- Fabian Drason; Reader Castellan, If you're still reading this, I regret to tell you that Fabian is gone. He could have gone so much further, in fact all six of these deaths could have, but I wanted to drop the numbers to 20 and Fabian was an easy choice, the second to last bloodbath to pick though. He had a lot of room for growth and I only hope that you could see what I had for him.**

 **23rd- Juniper Aspens; Hungergamesandjessie had such a fun character. I loved getting into her mind and writing just what was there and she could really flower out on her own. I had much more planned for her but she was the last bloodbath to decide. It wasn't easy but she lit up the arena for the short time she was here, and left a magical paint through it all**

 **22nd- Ember Hayfield; Juud108 gave me 2 awesome characters but I had to pick one to die and unfortunately Ember, despite her strength, was the first to go. I realized that Juniper could be the one she killed due to her dislike of the careers but I hope she came off well. Ember was fun to write for her 'villain' status. She may have been a 'villain' but she had people rooting for her.**

 **21st- Jensen Allard; Elim9, what can I say about Jensen? He was relatable, and he was troubled, and he had a past. I loved all of that about him and it was a blast writing from a kind of bleak perspective, but I just had to add his friends in. Jensen's personality was something I could easily envision and I had fun writing him. Thank you.**

 **Thank you to these 6 submitters for 6 great** **tributes so far. And I'll see how long it takes to get out the chapters for the next day of the Hunger Games**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	35. The Third Ruling Period (Day 2)

_**Day 2 (third ruling period- 6:00 AM- 6:00 PM)**_

 _Adam Cufole, 17 years old, District 6 Male_

 _5:58 A.M-6:20 A.M._

The sunlight is barely starting to break over the horizon when I begin to stretch. I have a foreboding feeling that mornings are not going to be as easy as planned. I'm not a history buff, but Garry is, and he always says that mornings that are too peaceful are bound to be interrupted. I don't know much but it seems true to me, heh. I haven't slept a wink for several hours but i'm still strong enough to get up from my reclining position

My hand is on Jakob's shoulder when a loud announcement blares through the early morning air. "LET'S GET TO IT FOLKS!" the stupid bear mutt says. "Today giving off the announcements is a girl who wants to be a part of this world, go ahead Ariel."

"Ahem," she says in a melodious voice. "None shall wear more than 2 sets of items, that means only one sock, one shoe, and or one glove. Today no one shall be permitted to eat shellfish. You may only use your non-dominant hand to wield a weapon longer than your forearm and for this 12 hour period Motonui and Atlantis shall be out of acces. Thank you," she sings.

The voices tun off in the arena and I have a feeling that this is how the day will go. Jakob wakes up and gently brushes my hand off of him. He glances over at Atticus, who is still sleeping, and gives him a little kick to his thigh. Atticus gets up with a yawn that spreads around the three of us. "I guess that I'll prepare something to cook?" he offers.

"If you want to go ahead," Jakob says. "No shellfish."

"We aren't anywhere near water," I say absentmindedly.

"Actually there are a couple of castles over yonder. One of them is surrounded by a moat. So maybe we can get shellfish from there?"

"Fine, you saw it when the lighting was better so I'll concede," I say. "Atticus let's try not to make a fire. I think others are...near by," I say with a yawn.

"Get some rest," Jakob tells me, his voice uncharacteristically growing gruff. "We'll wake you up in two hours, how about that?"

I nod my head tiredly, lying down again in front the small fire we've set up. I just close my eyes. "Hey Adam?" Atticus asks me. I tilt my head, not trying to open my eyes at all. "What were the rules?"

"You can't eat shellfish, take off any pairs you have so that you only wear one article...and grab long weapons with your non-dominant hand."

"Like a spear?" he asks quietly.

"No, like my cock," I say tiredly and sarcastically. I can hear Jakob snort before something soft is thrown at my head. The conversation dissipates into silence

 _Atticus Landry, 16 years old, District 10 Male_

 _6:15 A.M.- 7:45 A.M_

I'm still an outsider but they're trusting me to cook their food. I can do this. I look through a small bag that I've gotten. I have a metal sheet that I decide to lay out a small supply of raw meat that just comes down from the sky. "Can I go for a moment?" I ask Jakob quietly.

"What for?" he asks kind of stiffly.

"I saw some wild animals. If I catch one then I can cook it."

"Leave everything but the weapons you're going to use to hunt," he says after a moment of deliberation. "Try anything funny and Adam and I will track you down." I gulp nervously and pick up a small dagger. It's going to have to do.

I try my best to not wander too far from our campsite. Dad's always told me that if I have to stay out for a night then I best not wander more than a hundred paces. A hundred paces out and I turn back around, having not found anything. It's then that I see a bird, several of them resting in a cluster. I grab a fallen branch and use it to create some kind of cover.

Breathing heavily I walk close to it, trembling as I throw the branch over three of the birds. They're trapped. All three of them could fit in both of my hands. Thinking quickly I take off my jacket and wrap the birds in them. I run to the direction of the camp. I finally open my jacket and the birds fall out, injured. "Are you gonna kill them?" Jakob asks, considerably more awake.

"We're at the top of the food chain for a reason." With those words I make my way to my backpack and find a pair of sewing scissors. The birds go out without a fight. They're meaty, which is good. "How...how do you want to divide it? One and a...half for each of the two of you and...none for me?"

He raises his eyebrow, confused before shaking his head. "How about the three of us split up one bird? We can't be indulgent. I think these birds can last for...either two or three days. I just need some wrap for them."

On cue, a little but of cellophane falls from the sky into my waiting hands. I decide to portion out the birds so that roughly an eight of the birds is what we will eat.

 _Nikos Marbello, 18 years old, District 1 Male_

 _8:45 A.M-9:55 A.M_

We've been moving a lot in this. It hurts when you only have one shoe and one sock. I decided to wear one shoe on one foot and one sock on the other. It hurts but I'm working with it. And well, the others are too. This building is big but there are only two working floors. The lobby and the 45th or so floor. Every time we take an elevator an annoying jingle comes from everywhere.

"Did you hear that?" Desmond says, jolting me out of my deep thought.

I turn to him and immediately go silent, the girls in our group doing the same. It takes a second but finally… "Doofenshmirtz Evil In-corporated!" rings out through the floor. The curiosity in me grows as I split off momentarily, heading into a small room. The Jingle rings again as I enter the room. A giant robot thing is sitting the middle. It whirs to life and says, "Hi, I'm Norm! I run on Squirrel Power!"

I back away awkwardly and slowly shut the door. Suddenly I hear a loud banging and dive to the side. Norm the robot walks out the room. I hear the robot whir as it spouts one phrase "The enemy of the platypus is man," I guess he says. Layla and Antoinette round the corner and see the robot, recoiling before walking up to me.

"Is...it friendly?" Antoinette asks.

"Fuck if I know," I say quietly. I grab my spear with my left hand cautiously approach it. I give the robot a tiny poke and it turns. Then he looks at a different direction and walks off. "That weird," I note cautiously. Not five minutes later the robot returns, holding a package in his hands. He gives it to me. I open it to find a packet of dry meat, sleeping syrup, and body armor. I mumble a quick thanks to the robot and then join the others.

"Looks like you have the first sponsor present of the games," Layla notes, a hint of jealousy in her voice. I unroll the body armor and strap it on. It's kind of stiffening but I can make it work. I try my best to hide the sleeping syrup. That shit is valuable.

 _I remember that one…_

That one what? Jasper's voice drifts off. I can't hear it again. I follow the girls into a separate room, where other weird machines are. Just to be safe I keep the sleeping syrup tucked at the bottom of my bag.

 _Kaney Mayes, 13 years old, District 11 Male_

 _10:00 A.M-11:25 A.M._

"Let's face it Kaney, that computer sure as heck isn't giving us any other information," Valonia speaks up. She pulls out a map from her backpack and puts it down with a scream. I run over to her and find that there are some things on her map that are moving animatedly. It almost seems alive. I prod her map gently with a small wire but it doesn't do anything.

"I think it's fine," Lenora says quietly. "I think we need to move though. There's something about this building that scares me." The three of us look behind us, hear a creak, and begin to rush out.

We get about ten feet from the entry way when a giant spark grazes Valonia's back. She falls down. I pick her up and come face to face with a monster. It's think, lanky, and flexible as it dances in the air. I make a move to a small dagger but find myself recoiling. I grab Valonia and run. Lenora lags behind but she picks up everythign that we wind up dropping.

The monster recoils with a hiss and retreats into a small surfing hut...at least I think it's a surfing hut. There are a couple of buildings right next to the skyscraper we skedaddled out of. "Are you okay?" i ask Valonia.

"What was that thing?" She asks. "I'm fine by the way. You guys should have just left me. I don't think I can last longer."

"Let's try to stay together for one more rule period," Lenora offers. I look at her, impressed, and hold out a small piece of a dark apple. Lenora takes it.

"I think I saw that monster before. It was in one of my comics. But I don't know what it is doing here. And why is it in that grass roof house?"

The three of us shrug. We continue walking without a hitch. For fifteen minutes we are all bored but we want to see if there's something useful in the woods or if we can find something that can help us. Eventually I get tired and ask to take a break. "Sure," Lenora says.

"I'm going to swap shoes...THAT IS ALLOWED RIGHT YOU MANGY STUPID BEAR?!" I shout.

"You called?" the bear appears behind us with a smirk. "ANd yeah, go ahead, but if you put both on at the same time then you'll be executed!"

I take great care and take off my first shoe and sock. Then I put on my first sock, then my other shoe, and it fits. "Dang pity," the bear says, and wanders off.

The three of us sit in silence. "I think we need to get going," Lenora speaks up.

Valonia and I agree readily. I stretch out my feet and get with her, out of the woods.

 _Kimberly McAuckswatch, 16 years old, District 4 Male_

 _11:20 A.M-12:30 P.M._

"Did you hear that?" I tell my allies. The guys turn around and look at me intently. "Something electric and a scream?"

"Come to think of it, I did hear something," Aster says monotonously. "Is it the arena?"

"No those screams were a tribute," Regan says. "Hey, maybe they're injured. I think that's one of our… one of our cues to move forward isn't it?" He brushes past me and calls Samuel forward, who begins to recoil slightly. "It'll be alright, just keep the rules in your mind."

Samuel turns to me and Aster with a look of confusion on his face. I glance at Aster, who nods reluctantly and grabs his axe in his left. Before he moves it to his right he measures the blade along his forearm and moves forward, with the axe in his other hand.

It doesn't take long to find a small camp of three tributes. They all look so young, but it's a necessary evil. I begin to recall that my dad was somewhat against me joining the academy since I'd be taking lives when I'm so much better at saving them. I have to push that thought behind as I charge forward, ignoring Regan's warning.

"We have to go!" the small, dark skinned boy says to two other girls. He grabs hold of the smaller of the two and catapults her in front of him. The older of the girls struggles to keep up but when the other three of us break into the clearing she bolts off quickly.

"Scatter!" Regan says in a deep voice. Me and Aster, Regan, and Samuel all take three paths, chasing after one of the three poor tributes. With Samuel hot on my heels we learn that the others themselves have split up. I catch glimpses of the dark skinned boy going between the trees. Samuel tries to flank him with a tackle but he jumps over him.

The diversion is enough for me to throw a small spear into his direction. He gets pinned to the ground and chokes terribly. I grab the spear with my other hand and force down bile as I try my best to stab him in the head. My aim is true and the boy's cannon fires.

I walk over to SAmuel and help him up. Out of breath, I'm about to say something when a ridiculous cackle interrupts. "TO THINK IT'S ONE OF OUR FAVORITE CAREERS TO BREAK A RULE! HAHA!"

"What?" I say, in and out of breaths. Samuel passes me a confused glance as well as we turn to the cackler.

"YOU TOOK THE SPEAR WITH YOUR RIGHT HAND, WHICH ACCORDING TO THE DISTRICT ACADEMY, IS YOUR MOST DOMINANT HAND! AMBIDEXTRY MY MONOCHROMATIC ASS! IT'S PUNISHMENT TIME!"

"I-I-I dont' belive you," I try my best to fight back.

"Let's see what the audience at home has to say..,oh wait, that would be breaking the rules, and unlike you," the bear says. "I AIN'T A **FUCKING** RULE BREAKER HAHAHHAHA!"

It hits me that I'm screwed. I try to reach out to SAmuel as he holds out his hand, but the stupid bear mutt calls on the trees or something and I feel myself getting dragged on the foorest floor, getting all kinds of scraped up. Samuel calls out for help but by the time I see REgan and Aster some eternity away, I'm too far gone for them to help.

 _Nymphia Lightsea, District 4 Female Mentor and Victor of the 146th Hunger Games,20 years old_

 _12:15 P.M-12:30 P.M._

I refused to become a screaming woman in my hunger games. I refused to become a screaming woman when I saw a distant relative get hung by the gallows. I refused to become a screaming woman many, many, many times over. This is the first time that this is happening and I am trying my best to not become a screaming woman as my first tribute is made into a plaything of the gamemakers.

"Josh?" I cry out nervously. The head of District 7's training academy comes over and holds out his blistered hand for me. I take it tightly as he wraps his other hand around that necklace he keeps around him.

"Father of Mercy," he begins to whisper as I tighten my grip on him. "The secrets of all hearts are known to you alone. You know who is just and you forgive the unjust. You alone are the Almighty Judge. We are not worthy of judging anyone. Your mercy is enough for sinners."

I look away from my personal screen to the big screen where the other victors are watching. Some of them are clutching each other in fears, at least one or two of the middle districts are having a seizure. For the love of the Caspian they're playing music during her death scene! It's too loud, too loud, too loud.

"Hear our prayers," Joshua concludes for the first time. He begins repeating the mantra as I remain glued to the screen.

" _ **LET'S GIVE IT EVERYTHING WE'VE GOT! IT'S PUNISHMENT TIME!"**_ the accursed bear says loudly. Finally he stops dragging Kimberly around and puts her on a raft. She tries to get up but he runs around and ties her to the side of the raft. With help from a giant whale thing Kimberly is dragged over to a distant island.

It's already established that she can breathe under the water due to the composition of the water. The music changes. _I've been, staring, at the edge of the water, long as, I can remember, never really knowing why_. It goes on for several minutes for too long before a humanoid mutt, with a trusty pig, both embark on the makeshift raft of logs.

They go out in the ocean, Kimberly is lapped with water, and she flinches every time. She shivers as she heads in and out of the water. Finally, the song ends, and a giant wave overtakes the boat. The human mutt and the pig are sent to the bottom of the sea. The camera pans over to see the waves slamming Kimberly against a heap of coral. She dies, making the water red. 'Thankfully' the pig and his human mutt master are safe from the storm.

I release my grip on Joshua and walk down to the main screen. I collapse in front of the screen, curled up in a ball. I refuse to become another screaming woman from District 4 but that doesn't mean I'm at all sane. She was only my second tribute and I really thought I had a hero's journey plot with her.

 _Janine Midnight, 14 years old, District 6 female_

 _12:35 P.M-1:15 P.M_

Neve and I turn around with a jump at the sound of the cannon firing. That's the second one today. That means there are 18 of us alive in the arena. I look at Neve as she shrugs quietly. She's been kind of stoic since we got together. I wonder if she's thinking of...Jakob, the tall boy from her District. I know I'm still worried about Adam.

This forest is huge but we move from a thick jungle with hot floors and cold trees and wild rivers to a more moderate place. I pull out my map and see that we're still stuck in the hungered acre woods. Back to the basics I suppose. We've just been wandering aimlessly and it looks like we've made a circle. I look up and see a very small tree house. "Did you see that before?" I ask Neve curiously.

"No I haven't," she replies quietly.

"No harm in checking it out?"

"No harm in checking it out," she echoes.

Inside the tree house, which is only about ten feet off the ground that seems to be fit for the size of 10 stuffed animals, we see approximately 10 animals having a council. I recoil, seeing a bear in one of them, but Neve pushes me back. "It's not the bear mutt we're scared of. It just looks cute and yellow and cuddly," she explains. I look again and true enough, it is a yellow bear mutt, that seems to notice the two of us.

"Oh excuse me," the bear says, waddling to the lot of us. "Can you help me with a particular conundrum?"

He drags me and Neve into the house and we have to listen to an owl mutt give a lecture for the waiting group of animals. The yellow bear drags me over, so I tell Neve to stay with the owl as I have to help the bear grab a…. Hunny pot? He gets on my head and is just about to touch it when the owl bumps into me, yanking a blackboard from in front of me. "Sorry about that eh wot, but I do need to demonstrate this," the owl explains. The Hunny pot falls on the bear's head and shatters. He rubs his head and sigh.

With the sounds of a screech the owl begins to draw on the board. _It's a giant creature with a tail, Here I'll draw piglet in for scale, Its hide is like a shaggy mug. Its face a surely ugly mug, With two sharp horns atop his head, in between a mop of hair that's red. And in his nose a ring of gold it smells of mokey's feet and mold its toes are black its fur is blue I swear that all I tell you is not made up the BACKSON!_

 _THE BACKSON!_ The animals echo.

 _The Backson!_ I find myself echoing for some reason.

 _THE BACKSON!_ Neve chimes in, somewhat seriously.

It is to my horror that we're all singing. I've never been a good singer but why am I singing now?! Singing about some hideous monster who spoils the milk, stops all the clocks, use their horns to put holes in our socks-wait what? This isn't a dangerous monster...Why are they singing about it?

 _We'll search by the sun and the light of the moon,_ the animals sing as they drag me and Neve out of the house.

 _And we'll be BACK SOON!_ Neve and I sing. We escape the madhouse but are stuck in a line of singing animals. It's better to stay I suppose. These animals are gonna kill themselves and us before we die from another tribute's hand.

 _Zippina Cayen, 16 years old, District 3 Female_

 _1:45 P.M - 2:30 P.M._

Me and Nidawi have been wandering around this place for so long. I cast glances down at my map to see that we're heading northward, I presume. Why does reading a map have to be so complicated? There are no landmarks on this flimsy piece of paper. "I'll tell you right now, that according to this map, we went this way and that way and whichever way but we have not found a single home to rest. For a map this thing is broken," I try to say in a joking manner.

I glance at Nidawi who passes a small smile. Since last night we haven't been talking or laughing as much. "Do we even have a plan to get somewhere?"

We left the 'Ah-muh-ree-can Mix' some hours ago and are heading through the Hungered acre woods. I look around and realize that the music has stopped. "Huh, the music stopped," I voice.

"What kind of arena is this? There's music and mutts and trees and electricity….They really went all out for this quell I'd say. I have to say, I actually admire how much work went into this arena in all honesty."

"I'll give them that, but I do have to say that maybe they can use all the money they use making the arena on expanding the districts," I chortle before slamming my hand over my mouth, half expecting a bolt of lightning to take me out.

What hits me instead is an annoying little bear. "I know what you're gonna ask. No I won't get off of ya until my speech is all said and done," the bear jokes. "And you didn't break the rules hun."

Just as quickly as it came, it left. I turn to Nidawi and shudder. "I uhh, ignoring that as we normally do, I think we should just go over to this one place with a lot of people...it's called the Tri-State Area?"

"Can I see the map?" I hand Nidawi the map and she looks it over. "It's quite a ways away. We'll uh, stop over in this one place. They say it's called Zootopia? I know Zoo is like animals."

"Were we there already?" I ask, confused just a smidgen.

"Beats me." She puts her map away and continues walking at a quicker pace. "Let's just get going. I think that...I think….we just have to keep going. Jon really liked exploring you know?"

"Did he?"

"Yeah, there were so many ruins in District 5 that he just dragged all of us to go to," she says glumly with hint of tears in her eye. "I don't mean to make you glum though. Do you want to head off to Zootopia?"

"It seems civilized so maybe we can check it out. Why the Zoo?"

"Let's….let's just go then. I guess we'll find out one way or another."

 _Antoinette Vermur, 18 years old, District 2 Female_

 _2:40 P.M - 4:10P.M_

The giant robot man takes the elevator downstairs with his ever plastered smile on his face. I turn to layla, who shivers uncomfortably and offers to take me back to the group. "Do you really think that he's gonna be the one to get us body armor?" I ask her.

"I don't trust those kinds of suits. Of all things why that shade of blue? Are they trying to conceal something?"

I shut up, confused, and open the door to our little base camp, which is described as the wide open studio apartment of a maniacal pharmacist. It's a bit of a weird place in spite of all the familiarity. Desmond looks up from sharpening his blade with is left hand and stretches out his fingers. "Did you guys find anything?"

"The robot," I begin to explain. "Norm I think, he's gonna try to get us all body armor or something."

"Not sure if I trust him but it's a benefit for all of us," Layla interjects.

"D-Did we have to give him something?" Nikos asks. "Because we have a lot of goods to barter."

"I gave him another pair of gloves that I had, he said that could get us something," i say.

The conversation thins out as I move to the fridge. Immediately my mouth grows agape at the sight of a wide array of lobster set on top of a ton of butter and nourished with a mouthwatering sauce, a blooming flower of mussels and clams radiating from a center sauce, and an elegantly presented squid surrounded by layers upon layers of prawns. I shut the fridge immediately and move to another fridge. In the other fridge there's a giant turkey.

"I foudn food," I tell my allies. They all rush forward and help me wheel out the turkey. "Well since we're the capitol favorites we have to have the best food, right?"

A chorus of cheers comes from the other three just as the elevator comes back up. Several thunderous footsteps precede Norm's arrival. "Here's the change," the robot says. His mouth opens and a flood of coins begins to spew out. I grab a plate from the refrigerator and use it as a bit of a shield but my forearms get bruised.

With the end of the fountain I turn to the others and see that they're all a bit woozy. "You're a weird robot Norm," I tell the robot in brutal honesty.

"Let's just eat," Desmond proposes quietly.

 _Neve Seren Orion, 16 years old, District 13 Female_

 _4:05 P.M -4:55 P.M_

"Tell me again Janine, why did we agree to help these animals?" I ask my ally in a low voice.

"I can't say no, can I?" she explains. I'm a bit frustated at her response and lean against the wall of this very small abode. The Winnie-The-Pooh bear gives me another bucket of hunny on top of another bucket of hunny on top of another bucket of hunny.

"I do say that I think we need more stuffy stuff," Winnie the pooh says.

Reluctantly the two of us have to follow the yellow plush bear through a little more of the forest. Janine is strugling to carry the toys and trinkets that she found from the various houses that we've raided. "Hey Winnie the Pooh?" she asks after a while. "Can we eat some of this?"

"Oh I would love that. Can I have some hunny first? It would make for such a great picnic! But we must have enough for the dear bakson!"

The bear stumbles off in the forest and trips just a little bit before running again. "Tell me again Janine," I ask my ally. "Do they not know that the Backson is a misspoken mutilation of the words back-soon?"

"No they don't. I thought we explained this over and over and over," Janine says, a bit frustrated.

"I don't see any long term benefits from this, so I don't know how long we're still gonna help them. Are we not still going to find our allies?"

"I think we should," Janine says quietly. "But we can't just leave these animals-"

"They're mutts! They can turn on us on any given interval!"

"But if we lose rust then they may lose sight of us, maybe...maybe we can make a deal with them?"

"The arena is a two faced world, I thought that was established. You and I can only trust each other," I say frustrated, tearing open my backpack and pulling out a bottle of water. "Janine, let's see if we can get a place to sleep with these mutts but I fet waken up by something weird I'm seeing you later."

The bear returns, chased by a horde of bees. "WE NEED TO RUN OH BOTHER!"

With Janine at my side and the bear just in front of us, I glance back at the horde of bees and take a gasp. Once we break free I notice a stupid smile on Janine's face. "Hey Pooh? Is there anywhere we can get a place to sleep?"

"Oh you can't sleep in a place where there is no belt! I do have to ask my dear Rabbit friend about the arrangement but I am 100% sure that he'd stay with you!"

I turn to Janine, absolutely bewildered. "Okay, besides the bees they aren't that bad...right?"

I roll my eyes and begin to open a bag of dried fruit. This better be worth it.

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps Here**

 **This chapter was a long time in a making and for that I apologize. For the longest time I knew that two tributes were going to die and I was able to write their death scenes very quickly. The other perspectives were able to establish more about the arena and the characters themselves I hope. This won't be the last execution that we see, just the first for now.**

 **Anyways** **I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, if there are any criticisms feel free to leave them as respectfully as possible.**

 **Sponsor Questions:**

 **1) Where is Atticus kicked? (1 point)**

 **2) How does Atticus decide to divide the birds initially? (1 point)**

 **3) What two floors are available of the building? (1 point)**

 **4) How is Valonia attacked by the monster? (1 point)**

 **5) What rule does Kimberly break? (1 point)**

 **6) Who sings throughout the execution? (1 point)**

 **7) How high is the tree house? (1 point)**

 **8) To where are Zippina and Nidawi heading? (1 point)**

 **9) What does Antoinette use as a shield against Norm's fountain? (1 point)**

 **10) What chases Neve, Janine, and Winnie the Pooh? (1 point)**

 **So I think that's all that's said and done. I hope you all enjoyed the chapter.**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	36. The Fourth Ruling Period (Night 2)

_**Night 3 (fourth ruling period- 6:00 PM- 6:00 AM)**_

 _Aster Mallory, 17 years old, District 7 Male_

 _5:15-5:45_

The three of us sit around a small fire. We got matches from a sponsor gift so it's gotta be safe in order to do so. At least that's how I figured. "You know, the sunlight going down is gonna mask some of the flames," Samuel notes. "A lot of us in District 9 didn't see fires until it was too late because off the sunlight."

"I don't have many experiences with fires if I'm being honest," Regan says. "The few fires we did have came from a lot of collisions. And even then, we didn't have many of them. We had a lot of wild storms and during one of them, my best friends and I got so wet. I'm not a storyteller but we were literally a hundred feet from any entrance and about fifteen feet high."

"Wow, my life sounds half as interesting now," I say quietly. "The firefighters had to create a fire to get rid of some old oak, and that got too widespread, so my mom and I had to evacuate to a small shelter. The fire lasted for seven hours and seventy percent of our neighborhood was burned. Our house was one of the lucky ones. But the night after the fire another house spontaneously combusted."

"Looks like we're all survivors up to this point," Regan says. He's been adopting a much more charming voice lately. "The rules are going to change soon so if you ask me we can probably start with cooking some fish in about 30 minutes, by that time the rules should have changed."

"There's a little stream over there, I'll go over and wash up," Samuel says.

I take a glance over in his general direction to see another stream crisscrossing it. "If you don't mind Regan I'll wash up too," I say curtly. Regan nods and resigns himself to tending to the fire as he opens up some containers. Samuel and I walk several feet away and I'm sure we're out of earshot due to the rushing water. "I know it's in our best interest to be with Regan but he's getting manipulative."

"How so?"

"I've seen him pull you to the side. Did he make a deal with you to get to the end?" I ask Sam bluntly. He nods in shock and I curl my lips knowingly. "He made a deal with me too. But…"

"You're hesitating still?" Sam says as he strips off his shirt.

"Yes," I say bluntly. I immediately feel a flush of red as I involuntarily let my eyes take in his toned midsection that seems to slowly flex with his breath. "It's gonna be awkward for District 7 but you and I are gonna have to try to take him out soon."

"I mean, I guess," he says, involuntarily flexing his nicely chiseled chest. "I'd rather head to the end with you rather than Regan."

"As would I." The conversation awkwardly ends as I strip off my own shirt and I look over to see Samuel obviously gawking at me. "Do we have a deal?"

"Yes we do," he says, holding his hand out once again. I take his hand and feel a tighter grip than he's been having lately. "I think we'd better get washed up before Regan gets suspicious." I can agree with him on that regard.

 _Valonia Kalene, 12 years old, District 10 Female_

 _6:00-6:40_

"Delivering tonight's rules will be the one true king of the jungle. He has lead the slacker life with his adopted fathers munching on grub and swinging on the jungle's amazing foliage, straight outta the pride lands and a successful coup, his greatest challenge here is raising his rapscallion of a daughter, and managing all the animals in his lands, today it's king Simba."

The bear stops its speech and we hear the roar of a lion, a long gone animal before a very attractive voice fills our ears. It clears its throat and begins to speak. "Tonight two tributes are not able to lie down within six feet and three inches of another tribute, drink water from a bottle, and must not use anything other than body parts as pillows," the lion, Simba, says before letting otu another roar.

"Today I recommend that you follow the rules. You may have heard but one of our victims today was the victim of their own inability follow their rules, so don't join them!" The bear closes the announcement with a taunting laughter.

"Do you think that Kaney was killed with that?" I ask Lenora quietly.

"We don't know that Kaney was the one that was killed," she says quietly. "If there's anything I learned from him is that we prepare for the worst but hope for the best."

"We were preparing for the worst, weren't we?" I ask her.

"And now we hope for the best," Lenora says.

"Kaney reminds me so much of my big brother. I don't want him to die this soon."

"Sounds like you and your brother are quite close," Lenora says, matter of factly. "Look, if you want to leave feel free to but I'm more than willing to let you tag along for a while."

"Why would I want to leave?" I ask. "There is power in numbers. Isn't that why Kaney let me join you two in the first place?"

"It's less odds that I'd have to stab you in the back, so I wouldn't look a new sweater too finely," she says. "I'm gonna start a small hot pot. Some soup can be good for now."

"I'm confused, if I lie down and you don't lie down would I still get punished?"

A parachute falls down and I grab it intensely. _**No, if two tributes lie down very close to each other then they'd both get punished. I lost my voice so don't make me commentate another execution, it's too late in the night- Mono-Pooh-Ma**_ **.**

I blink in confusion and ball up the paper and slide it into a bag. Kaney told me to just try to lie down on my side when not moving. The spark that monster gave me doesn't show any signs of being extra hurtful or anything but I don't want to agitate anything worse. If I'm gonna get back to Tilden this back is gonna have to heal. I really need help and I guess the only person I can turn to is me.

 _Desmond Pick, 18 years old, District 2 Male_

 _7:05-7:55_

I finish taking a metered drink from a tall glass cup as Layla and Nikos both walk off to a room hidden in the back behind some couches. Norm the robot comes over and takes the cup from me and places it into a washer. Antoniette turns to talk to me before the two of us hear the sounds of glass breaking. Ignoring that, she takes a seat next to me and asks, "What's your story?"

"I'm a District 2 male who persevered in order to be the best District citizen there is, it doesn't get as generic as that," I say quietly. "Had I not made into the academy my father would have had me enter a butler position."

"A butler to whom?"

"Women," I say bluntly. "It's why I try to be polite. I remember being six years old and picking on my sister because...well at the time I believed as though Female Victors were much more unworthy than male victors and I thought that she was a moron for thinking that girls were stronger than guys. Don't get me wrong, I know that while girls are typically weaker there are exceptions and girls can become just as strong as guys are on average and in many cases surpass them."

"You know, I wish I had a sibling to argue stupid things about," Antoinette says wistfully. "MY friends in the academy are my sisters but...I take it you saw your sister come home from the hospital?"

"We had a midwife like most everyone. Almost everyone," I add as an afterthought.

"To this day I can't smell alcohol without feeling a bit of bile in my stomach. I lost my dad from a drunken brawl, and you know how people die of heartache? That happened to my mom. It was kind of rough I'd have to say. I met my friends in the orphanage but it would have been nice to have some parents like you do."

"Thank you," I say quietly. "If I'm not being rude here, did your mandatory kills align with your backstory?"

"No?" she says quietly. "I guess I've never thought of that. They weren't that hard...but I did have to kill a gil I knew from the orphanage."

"How old were you when that happened?"

"Like 15, that's when they got hard, right?"

"It was 16 for me," I reply. "Suppose we change the subject now. Do you think that the career alliance is going to last long?"

"We're already separated from District 4...and we heard two cannons so I think one of them may be someone from District 4. I hope it's the big guy...as good looking as he was," she says with an awkward smile.

"If our little foursome were to implode...I trust that I'd try to protect you."

"As of now, I can guarantee that on my end...did I sound as sophisticated as you?"

"I'm just talking the way I was raised," I explain kindly. We're joined by Nikos and Layla in time for the nightly roll call. And with deaths earlier today then this roll call is something we need to see.

 _Lenora Cotton, 16 years old, District 8 Female_

 _8:00-9:05_

An anthem many of us in Panem are all too familiar with begins playing at what is presumably 8 o'clock. I wake Valonia up from her little nap and she looks to the sky next to me. The familiar music kicks up with the picture of a girl, I think one of the lower careers. Maybe the District 4 girl, considering that she has a darker shade of blond hair, but her name escapes me right now.

Then it hits us. Kaney's smiling face now appears over us. I choke on my words as I pull Valonia close to me. He didn't make it out of the scuffle with the careers. The bile builds up in my stomach as I double over. I hope he went out quickly. "Do you think he was executed?" Valonia asks quietly.

"W-What?" I manage to say.

"Mono-pooh-ma told me that someone got executed."

"That's not like him," I say defensively. "I hope it was that girl who got executed, as...well as mean as that sounds but...Kaney doesn't deserve that kind of cruelty you know."

All she does is nod quietly. The anthem closes on the seal of Panem before it disappears, leaving the two of in the dark for a while. We move over to our camp as she awkwardly stretches out her back, picking at the mark where the mutt shocked her. "I can still stay, right?"

"You don't have to go unless you want to," I say quietly. Kaney...I sincerely think of him as a friend from these past couple of days and to think of him dead is really draining on the mood between the two of us. He didn't deserve this fate anymore than any of the other bloodbath victims.

Valonia picks at some fruit, some precooked bacon, and a piece of fish that's beginning to smell. She's sitting at one side of our pile of supplies hunched over her small meal. I dig into my bag and pull out some dried jerky. It's not much of a meal but I'm used to it. It is pretty hard adapting to meager food now that we've had a week anda bit in the capitol.

I'm about to talk to Valonia when we hear music. Then a blaring light just behind Valonia makes its presence known. Thinking quickly, I wrap two bags around my back and grab Valonia by one hand as she seems to be paralyzed. She makes a feeble grab at food before running alongside me.

The parade tramples over a bag that I left behind in the haste to escape and the remnants of Valonia's meal. Valonia collapses next to me and I try to wake her up but she seems to be out cold. It must be the stress of the day. I admit that I'm not as good as caring for others since I'm usually the one being taken care of.

I heard fragments of statements that my brother found a girlfriend. That's really good for him, since a lot of girls did say he had a sense of handsomeness. I hope that when-if-if I get home then he introduces me to her if she actually does exist. Maybe I can find a nice boy to get with. It is when I'm stuck in those thoughts that the lights from the passing parade seems to lull me to sleep. I shake myself awake and move several trees over, at least 10 feet away, to make sure I collapse.

I hpe the dreams are kind to me today.

 _Jakob Torser, 16 years old, District 13 Male_

 _9:00-10:03_

 _Albany takes my hand suddenly as the two of us are forced to run through a thick, heavily forested, unevenly terrained jungle. Many tapes of previous hunger games have let me learn the words but to think that I'm running through one now is virtually unfathomable. Our run through the jungle is interrupted when my father comes, falling from a tree branch high above. He's covered in scratches and blue paint or something. I walk over to him, kneeling as I approach his prone frame, when I hear another weight land just behind me. The district one girl...the pretty blond one, bares sharp teeth at me, and runs forward. I scream as I'm shaken out of my dream._

"Jakob!" I see my ally, Adam, with his nose almost touching mine and his legs on either side of my torso. "Are you okay?"

"Must have fallen asleep," I say tiredly, trying to mask my distress as what I saw. I prop myself up on my elbows as I fix myself. Adam heads off of me and apologizes. With a sigh I pull myself up and see that our third member, Atticus, is curled up some eleven feet away and it looks like he's rocking himself to sleep. "Is he alright?"

"I think we should just leave him be," Adam says. "Did you have a bad dream out there?"

"Yeah," I say bluntly. "Been having them since after the reaping. My poor father was in this one."

"You guys close?"

"Yeah, he's just really...ill, so to say. He had a work accident with some poison or something and a water bottle."

"Sounds ghastly," Adam replies.

"That's what the doctors said. You asked if my father and I were close...are you and your dad...not as close?"

He takes a deep breath and pulls out his jacket from his backpack. I can see him uncertainly fold it again before he puts it back. "Ever since mom left for some...dastard or someone...and my dad lost his job in a factory, he's just been drinking, a lot."

"He's not a mean drunkard, is he?"

"No, I've had plenty of experience with them and my dad's nothing like them. He just passes out after he finishes cooking for me and my bro." He pulls out his hat and fastens it over his head. It fits him...and daresay makes him look attractive.

"I guess I'm gonna keep watch," I say quietly.

"Sorry to go out on you like this," he says, stifling a yawn. "But you know how it is, just have a tendency to fall asleep with friends, huh?

"Suppose so...I guess I'll wake up Atticus and see what he's gonna plan for tomorrow...we're gonna have to dump him eventually."

"Eventually is not today, that can wait," Adam says. "He's alright, I don't want to kill him."

"Neither do I."

 _Naette Quill, 12 years old, District 12 Female_

 _10:15-11:01_

I unsteadily rock back and forth and try to get to sleep. One of the younger boys died today, I saw him, and it wasn't a face that I really wanted to see in the middle of the night. I cringe at the thought of what could have befallen him, or for that matter, one of the very strong careers. I guess no one really is safe in this arena.

I suppose that I fall asleep sometime letter but I really can't tell, it's too dark and I can't risk falling asleep. "If I fell asleep would I get punished like this?" I wonder aloud, quietly whispering. My answer comes in the form of a very tiny parachute with a very tiny note. I extend an arm and find that it contains one word. " **No."** and it is signed by Monokuma.

With myself more reassured I pull myself in a tighter ball and begin to try to rest my head, but all that comes from that is horrid thought of my family dying at the hands of that bear. I begin to cry because it seems too real, I try to reach out, to yell out for them, but I can't be too loud or else the monster mutts will come for me.

I stand up and walk to Naomi, bending down and poking her on her back. "Hey, I think your perspective is up. I can't sleep anyway," I murmur. Naomi wakes up with a grumpy look on her face and sits up quite soon. "I can't sleep and I want to stay closer to this pile of warmth we have."

She stifles a yawn and smiles before almost closing her eyes again before she slaps herself awake. "What my friends and I would typically do is cuddle under a blanket. But we don't have blankets and we can't be near each other," she says sadly. "I think we'll get some soon."

"How about you take over and watch for blankets?"

"Naette this really reminds me of home...I want both of us to get back but I know that's going to be impossible."

"I miss my family," I let the statement hang in the air before Naomi makes a grab to our pile. She takes care not to knock over any of the bags and pulls out a somewhat large blanket. She puts her hand in again and pulls out a small handful of about five dried fruit pieces. "Can I have some?"

She nods quietly and tosses me two pieces of them. They taste like peaches and oranges. I haven't had much opportunity for fruit besides the capitol and now it feels like a shadow of the capitol's luxurious kitchen. I begin to think about how much better my family would feel if they could even try some of this. "I think we can just sit here for a while," Naomi says. The two of us keep staring, taking presence in each other's silent company.

 _Naomi Palmer, 12 years old, District 9 Female_

 _11:03-11:45_

There's not much more that the two of us say for the rest of the night. The two of us are actually kind of tuckered out from all the running and walking. It's only day 2. The training center did not plan for this...well if they did I must have missed the lessons. Who could have helped me? Jgen? Lillia? Definitely Samuel.

I hope he's doing well. Is dad even rooting for him at home? I hope that he's been better lately. I don't want to come back to his constant yelling at mom and at...well

If I make it home then Samuel doesn't, and he's been working so hard at this. He was one of the strongest guys if he was even allowed to volunteer. Has he killed someone? Where is he? All these questions flow through my head as I notice Naette moving away to lie down again. I sigh and realize that I'm going to have to be alert for at least another hour.

This is going to be damaging since I'm only alone with my thoughts.

There's not much more for me to say.

With a sigh I turn my head away from the pile of supplies to look over yonder at something. The buildings all blend into one and don't seem to add anything. I think that we're in a jungle? I guess that helps with staying warm but I don't know how long we can stay here. I think tomorrow that Naette and I should just be moving around this kind of jungle arena.

I hear the sounds of a roar that wakes Naette up. She scampers over to me and I scamper over to her and we begin to tremble in fear. Who knows how far away that thing could be? What was the thing that made the noise? There's sounds of wet footsteps from all the way above us and other shouts.

As suddenly as they come, they go. I hope there's nothing left to worry about tonight. "ARe you okay?" Naette asks me out of concern.

"Yeah, you?" I ask a bit quickly.

"Yeah," she says quietly.

"I think I've been trying to sleep for too long. Maybe I'll stay up now," she says in a solemn tone. I let her take my spot in front of the pile of clothes. I take a small blanket and wrap it around my legs. It's cold tonight and I hope that there's not too many things to worry about tonight.

 _Layla Ranevall, 18 years old, District 1 Female_

 _11:50-12:30_

I wake up in the middle of the night from my couch. I lock eyes with Desmond and he makes a nod of understanding before he walks over to Nikos. I make my way to Antoinette and the four of us are awake for another 10 minutes. "I'll take the next shift," I volunteer. "But I do need help staying awake, as unlikely it is for outer district tributes to ambush us in our sleep."

"I wouldn't get too confident if I were you," Antoinette says, rubbing her eyes.

"Well it's just unlikely by this point," I grumble.

"You do have a point. This arena's huge from what we've seen," Nikos says, involuntarily glancing over his shoulder, looking down from a balcony. "And what are the odds that someone is going to look at this building in particular."

"As confident as we may be, in these later hours it would be beneficial for two of us to stay awake at a time. If there's anything that should be learned from the Hunger Games, is that anything could happen," Desmond says in his ever formal tone.

His shirt is still halfway rolled up and it exposes an actually toned midriff, hot but not as hot as An, if i may think to myself. I only make note of this as he apologizes profusely for his 'indecent exposure'. At this point we feel a large chill coming over us and my attention goes to An's...really nice chest if I'm being blunt. "I already volunteered so I'll take a perch close to the door."

"I can join you," Antoinette volunteers. Nikos nods, seemingly in agreement, and already curls up on a couch, but not before abruptly turning his head. Desmond also makes a gesture of agreement before lying down on his back, a dozen feet away from all of us. I rest my head on the wall as I sit down. "Looks like the two of us are here for a while."

"So it's my turn to regale you with a story?" I joke.

"Anything to keep the two of us awake. I heard from a little birdy that District 1 is quite the sexual district."

"As true as that stereotype is,it's still a stereotype," I say idly. "I suppose I could tell you about how me and my best friend stole a vibrator from Glisten when she left it in the bathroom...sorry Glisten…"

"What is a vibrator?"

I go into the raunchy details and immediately laugh as her eyes grow wide. "Good times i have to say...I feel like my parents would chew me out if they found out…" _Teenage life is full of mischief, I would have done the same._ I hear mom reply to me.

Antoinette breaks an awkward silence with a quick statement. "I have no idea how my parents would react...I wish I knew them as well as you did."

"Well...they're dead...I'm just theorizing."

"Oh," Antoinette says awkwardly. "I mean I may have forgotten about that…"

"Don't knock yourself down with that. There's a lot that all of us have on our minds...I just wish that my parents could see me kill the rebel scum that killed the both of them…"

"A good plan."

"I hope so."

 _Samuel Palmer, 18 years old, District 9 Male_

 _12:00-12:45_

It's hard staying awake and staring at the fire. There's something about it's hypnotic and dancing image that lulls a person to sleep. There's been so many grain fires in District 9 that I'm actually quite used to it. Naomi told me there was a grainery fire a couple of weeks before the Hunger Games. If either of us are going to get out of the Hunger Games then one of us has to die.

Looks like the old Captain Obvious me is coming out. I curl up my knees to my chest and continue staring at the fire. I fear what dad has to say about me right now… stuck at that immature captain obvious mode, as he always put it. And now I'm a killer, he didn't want me to get into the careers for this reason and...if I don't make it out a worthy victor I'm not going to be good enough to come back to him since the death of his darling girl is going to be on my hand!

There's the sound of a branch cracking behind me and I jump up, kicking up some dirt and almost smothering the fire. "Calm down Sam, it's just me," ASter says, in a deep and tired voice without raising it. "I think we can switch if you want to."

"BUt I just woke you up about an hour ago, shouldn't you be waking Regan up?"

"I appreciate your generosity but I can take it right now," Aster says, but I feel like it's false reassurance. "You need to sleep though."

"I just got sent on a bad train of thought, that's why I was...kind of spazzing out."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Aster asks.

"Now?" He nods his head gently and I scoot over to make room for him. "You know dad and I aren't on the best of terms, right? I'm just worried about being...being my sister's keeper and all of that you know? Of all four of us back home he yells at her the least. He yelled at Sidney when he moved across the district simply because there were jobs over there and at Chase for not joining him at the fields...I take the brunt of all the fights.

"I'm just worried about taking care of Naomi now. This arena is too big for me to find her in time and I can't be sure if she's even going to be alive by the time we reunite, or even if the time will come. And if I come back then Dad's just going to keep yelling and yelling."

"I think…" aster says. "I'm not good at this but… I don't suppose there's a reason that your dad is so concerned? Did something happen in your family history?"

"Not that i know of…"

"Well then your dad is just a prick," Aster says, bobbing his head up and down. "When you're a victor then you don't have to deal with him."

"I suppose. I can't leave mom like that, can I?"

"...no you can't," Aster says after a moment of thought. "I'll open up tomorrow since it's getting kidn of late...but thank you for telling me."

"No problem." Aster and I exchange a smile before I head over to where Aster was a while ago, taking care not to make any excessive noise. Maybe when I wake up in an hour I'll wake up Regan. It's keep your friends close but your enemies closer, right?

 _Nidawi Sebille, 16 years old, District 5 Female_

 _12:30-1:25_

"You're okay, right?" Zippina asks me. I stretch my hands out and rise to my feet as I nod tiredly. With much effort I waddle over to a perch some twelve feet or so away, just enough not to trigger some rule break or something. "I worry for you."

"I worry for you too" I say, half seriously and half sarcastically. "I'm going to sleep now. This building that we found...just in the middle of nowhere...it's surprisingly homely."

"Thank the people who live in...ToonTown, according to the map. Or Old town, The light is making it hard to see. Take a nap under...wow this town is big...it says that we're at...Oswald's gas station. Sounds...sounds old."

"Gee, I think that too," I say, the sarcasm seeping out. "Anyways...goodnight...sleep tight…"

"Sleep tight."

I lie with my back on the concrete and my head in some grass. For some kind of town this place is actually very very very grassy, though I think that makes for more convenience than anything. I can't even remember half the lands that we've been to or where we're going to next.

Oh right, Danville in the Tri-State Area.

I bet Jon would have loved to come with us. It stings knowing that he was one of the first people dead. I knew I liked him but I new with the age gap that nothing serious could have happened. I just feel terrible about what's going to happen next, probably returning home to see my...my friends all hovered over our caskets.

It's not a pretty sight I envision.

 _I slip into the world of dreams. It's been called a rabbit hole by the more optimistic of us, and with the dream I'm free falling and Jon is directly across from me. There's no way to stop and no way to reach for him. Though he falls down one path and I fall down the other I hear his pained screams. I pass through images of Artair, Lindall, Vern, Delancy, Alaina...all of them disapproving at me. Should I have sought him out for much longer in the bloodbath? Should I have? Should I have? Should I have? Artair tackles me as I fly, I find myself pinned by him as I cry, he nuzzles against me and tells me it'll be alright. But then Michael's there and he's saying that he's lying._

I wake up with a lot of sweat on my brow. Zippina is asleep.

I choose to fall asleep as well.

 _Neve Seren Orion, 16 years old, District 13 Female_

 _1:20-2:20_

As much as I hate to say it, I love the underground, and this...Rabbit's hut… reminds me of a home where we weren't controlled by the capitol. The rabbit who gave us this house...Rabbit...for some reason… gave it to us with very much open arms in exchange for the two of us picking out enough materials for capturing the backson.

That's the thing, the backson, the backson, the backson…. It's always the backson with these animals. How old are they? And that stupid owl for that manner, who thinks that back soon could ever be misconstrued as Backson? I guess it reflects the idiocracy of the capitol...haha.

No sooner do I laugh out loud when I hear a thud at the door. Apprehensively I grab a pot as a weapon, I've heard they made kills with it, or were they the frying pans? But I grab a cooking tool to help guard Janine and I before I open the door. I'm hit with a giant orange force that titters loudly. "Say-hey! Where's uh-huh my dear pal Rabbit?"

"...he gave us this house," I say, taken aback by the...animal's weight. "What are you?"

"Gee howdy, I thought for sure everyone knew everything about T-I-double- guh- errs! No matter!"

 _The most wonderful thing about tiggers, is that tiggers are the most wonderful hings, their tops are made of rubber, their bottoms are made out of springs!_ The animal begins to sing.

" _They're trouncy bouncy clouncy fun fun fun fun fun!"_ I sing, surprised at myself.

 _And the most wonderful thing about tiggers is that I'm the only one!_ Then it sings off into the night. I close the door tightly and lean against it while sitting on the floor. That was the second time I was forced to sing today and it's scaring me. I have a terrible voice and singing wasn't an activity recommended by most of District 13 when training.

I take a glance over at Janine to see that she's snug as a bug in a rug. I debate about waking her up for now, but with as cozy as she looks, I decide not to. She needs her sleep. I mean I need it too, but she's used to a lot more turmoil, she could use more sleep.

 _Regan Attwater, 18 years old, District 4 Male_

 _2:00-2:45_

I'm awaken with a somewhat rough shake. I wipe at my eyes with one hand and grab my spear in the other, relenting when it's just Samuel, who helps me get up from my prone position. "Any reason you woke me up?" I ask, in a voice deep and worried.

"I thought you needed to watch over our stuff for a while. Aster's been stressed lately so I didn't want to wake him up more than I needed to," Samuel says with a bit of a blush.

"Well, thanks," I say, striding over to our fire place, staring into it. "Do you trust me?" I ask bluntly.

"Yes," he says, but I catch the hesitation in his voice while he gulps loudly.

"It's okay if you dont' trust me," I say calmly. "I guess being a career and Semi-career would mean that two of us are of different ilk."

"It's not that I dn't trust you...it's…"

"IT's what Samuel?"

"I do trust you, but I think you trust me too much," he says with an awkward chuckle, before slamming his hands over his mouth.

I jump up, stretch out, and face him much closer than I ever has. He cowers a bit before resolving himself and standing straighter. "Keep your head up," I say in a calm voice, hoping to catch him off guard. From the look of surprise on his face, he is. "You may be right about that, but you remind me of my….my boyfriend, Kyle, back home. I really don't want to kill you nor Aster...so I will not do that as long as I can."

"Is...is that your word?" he nervously asks.

"That is," I say confidently. "You don't have to trust me, I know you trust Aster more than I, and if I have to kill you, I will, but I really do not want to do that." I grip his arm tightly and he steels himself to grip my forearm tightly. "Three heads are better than one or two. But two heads are better than one. I don't mind dying to a worthy ally, but I don't want that backstabbing."

"I don't think we'll be doing that...any time soon."

"Good," I say in a tougher tone than I intended. "Now head to sleep, for now you can trust me."

As Samuel walks off to his spot I take a glance at Aster, who seems to have rolled over in the duration of time that I've seated in front of the fire. Suspicious. But reasonable.

I sit down, take off Kyle's ring, and roll it in my hands. I hope he forgives me after this. I love him, I trust in him, and I have to know that he trusts in me.

And I know that.

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps Here**

 **You know...in writing the last couple of perspectives...my *ahem* "friend" revealed that he was responsible for stupid spams on the SYOT alliance and harassing other people, including me. It...it's really draining but I hope that the latter part of the chapter doesn't suffer as a result but I hope you guys all enjoy it. I mean you just rant about things to a friend, don't expect them to do anything, and then they lash out in a way you never thougth possible...safe to say he and I are no longer friends...**

 **Sorry about that mini-rant over there, I hope that those in the SYOT alliance can forgive me for ranting on and on about hidden procedures to people who I thought wouldn't do anything about it... I truly am sorry for what I've unleashed onto the alliance...**

 **Well, i'm going to power through it forgiveness or no, and I now know to put things behind me that need to be put behind me.**

 **Now about this chapter, I realize that Neve got two perspectives in a row, but that was because she didn't get a perspective on any of the three chapters describing the first day. I want to make things as equal as possible in perspective count, word count is simply too hard at this point, but I hope that all tributes get a scene of some substance (humor, development, or angst or etcetera). We have some more planning from these people simply because teenagers are crafty motherfuckers.**

 **Sponsor Questions:**

 **1) Where do Sam and Aster decide to wash up? (1 point)**

 **2) Who gives the rules spiel for the 4th ruling period (1 point)**

 **3) When did the kills get hard for Desmond? (1 point)**

 **4) How many bags get destroyed with the parade? (1 point)**

 **5) Where are Jakob and his friend (1 bonus point to name the friend) when they are running in his dream? (1 point)**

 **6) How many dried fruit pieces does Naomi end up with? (1 point)**

 **7) What wakes Naette up? (1 point)**

 **8)** **What did Layla steal? (1 point)**

 **9)** **How does Samuel justify waking up Regan? (1 point)**

 **10) Where does Nidawi choose to rest? (1 point)**

 **11) What's the most wonderful thing about tiggers? (1 point)**

 **12) What makes Regan suspicious? (1 point)**

 **Well, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. I hope to have the accompanying interlude out very soon, sometime this week. Hopefully you guys stick around, I've been having a blast writing Tremble and I don't want to lose support because you guys are all an amazing set of friends that I've made.**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps.**


	37. The Second Games Interlude

_**Interlude 2:**_

 _Mayor Fen Mayes, 39 years old, Kaney Mayes' (20th) Father_

 _Mandatory Viewing Night 2, District 11_

The second time today I see my only son get stabbed in the neck by the District 4 career. I grip my wife's shoulders tightly and she lets out a small cry. My hands fall to her stomach as I kiss her sadly on her neck. Kaney's three little friends are watching us with an awkward glance in their eyes and the cameras are all focused on us.

I fix my tie and cede duties to the deupty mayor and grip Blaire's hands to guide her off stage. It's been a tiring day for the both of us and this suit is constricting me way more than it should. The president says that everything happens for a reason and it just may be me but those reasons are becoming less and less apparent. Blaire and I are guided back home to our...mansion…

Until our little Bucky or Katherine is born...this house is going to be much bigger than it usually is. I became mayor a decade ago, when Kaney was still toddling through the halls and had no idea what the difference was between a pear and an apple. "I can still feel him here," Blaire tells me, sitting in Kaney's favorite chair.

I walk over to the chair and I remember all those times the three of us would sit in a chair and simply read a story. He loved reading. "I feel his presence too," I state quietly, combing my fingers through Blaire's hair. "We're still going to protect his friends."

"I'm going to put their families on my list. I think he would have liked that," Blaire solemnly notes.

She heads off into the kitchen to grab a drink and it's my turn to sit in Kaney's chair. It was only a little over a week ago that I said a final goodbye to him. He always wanted to smile, he loved telling stories, and he loved having fun. I wish I could have seen him grow a whole lot more.

My hand goes to a scar directly on my cheek, when I was mistaken for a criminal and duly punished by a trigger happy peacekeeper. Thinking about it triggers yet another memory about my son and his friends, and it's not a pleasant one.

 _L orcus McAuckswatch, 12 years old, Kimberly McAuckswatch's (19th) Brother_

 _Mandatory Viewing Night 2, District 4_

The image of Kimberly's execution burns in my mind one last time as her picture disappears in a wave on the big screen all in front of us. It doesn't seem like her to break the rules and it's just frustrating to see her punished for something she couldn't have controlled! I break away from my parents and walk over to join Lotus and my crew as peacekeepers wisely choose to pick us out.

"Hey, LOrcus," someone sneers from my group. "I thought your sister's instinct was to save."

I turn to face the heckler, a dumb blond girl named Yamuna Shannon, and face her with a wolf's glare. "What?"

"Maybe if she didn't volunteer to kill, she'd be alive, that was quite dumb of her, wasn't it?"

I feel myself going red as I storm up to her and punch her in the stomach. "You can't hit a girl!" her cohort says.

"I thougth you believed in girl power," I say sardonically. She tries to retaliate but I pounce on her, screaming and punching her eyes. "IF YOU MAKE FUN OF MY SISTER AGAIN, MARK MY WORDS, YOU'RE DEADER THAN DEAD!"

It take Lotus pulling me off of her for me to stop. She gets up and opens her mouth to make a joke but it ocmes out a whimper and she runs off crying with her friend. "I never liked her anyway."

"Neither did I," I grumble. "If I hear you talking about my sister in that manner...we're not friends anymore."

"Got it," LOtus says. He knows I can beat him but, but I like him, and I don't want to beat him up unless he's fine with it. He turns to the other boys and the last girl in our clique. "You hear that? You guys aren't exempt from getting your asses handed to you," Lotus says in a low growl.

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps Here**

 **So...now it's time for the eulogies. It's a fitting send off to a set of two characters that I had a whole lot of fun with.**

 **20th- Kaney Mayes, 13 year old District 11 Male, I remember asking Mik for a character, and boy did they deliver! I had a lot of fun tapping into the childhood fantasy of having the run of the town because your father was just so prominent as a figure. Unfortunately, like many young tributes of the past, he perished and I hope that he was able to give Kim a run for her money.**

 **19th- Kimberly McAuckswatch, 16 year old District 4 Female. Platrium, thank you so much for such a great girl involved with search and rescue. She was noble at heart, which is why I didn't see her going far. She seemed like an easy pick of the toughies to go out. I had a blast writing her even if I did fumble a fair bit with her eating disorder. I hope you enjoyedd reading her as I enjoyed writing her.**

 **I don't know if that's all I can say for those tributes but I know I had a metric buttload of fucktons of fun and I'm glad that I had this opportunity to write these characters for you all**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


End file.
